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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


li'-    IIIIIM 

IM    112.2 


I.I 


m 

■  4  0 


2.0 


1.8 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


// 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

^ 6" 

► 

23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


■ ■Ill""- 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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n 


n 


n 


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Covers  damaged/ 
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Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


I I    Couverture  restau^de  et/ou  pellicul6e 


Cover  title  missing/ 


I I    Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

□    Coloured  maps/ 
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D 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
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10X 


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Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  rdduction  indiqud  ci-dessous. 

14X  18X  22X 


26X 


aox 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Dl 


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empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —^-(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END  "), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivarts  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — »-  signifie  'A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


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required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  saul  clichd,  il  est  filmd  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

TUE   LIFE   BUOY. 


If 


0  a   0  B  TT  «  n  li. 


p^ 


Mi'';''!'  ■■ 


rrnini 


THE    DOG    CRUSOE. 


a  'Mt  if  tilt  Itettni  f  miria 


BT 


R.  M.  BALLANTYNE, 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE  CORAL    ISLAND,"   "TOGAVA,"   "  THE  TOUNQ   FUR  TRADERS," 
''THE  WORLD   OP  ICE,"   "MARTIN  RATTLER,"   "  HCDdON'S  BAY," 
"  THE  aOLDEN  DREAM,"  ETC. 


BOSTON: 

CROSBY    AND    NICHOLS. 

1862. 


^iA».~-.^J.... .  -..  LiWS 


CAMBHinCE: 
Allen  and  Karnhani,  ei^reotypcw  and  rrinterat 


THE    DOG    CRUSOE. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I, 
The  Backwoods  Settlement.  -  Crusoe's  Parentage  and  Early  History  - 

:iT^:z'j'''-'  ^----  -  pu.prhood,and:tri^e: 

9 

CHAPTER  II. 

^Sr^'lT!  ^'"'"n  ''"*'  '"  """"^quences.-New  Friends  introduced  to 
the  Reader. -Crusoe  and  his  Mothe.  change  Masters     ....  20 

CHAPTER  III. 

Speculative  Remarks  with  which  tl,e  Reader  may  or  may  not  agree  -  An 

Z  r        "■  ;"°P"  ''"^  '^''^^^^  — ing'ea  -ith  Hard  FaSI-The 

Dog  Crusoe's  Education  begun u 't^-w.       ine 

84 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Our  Hero  enlarged  upon.  — Grumps 

47 

CIUPTER  V. 

^tfetnd'ifh?R  71^°"'"*^'  Joys.-Dick  and  Crusoe  set  off  for 
the  Land  of  the  Red-skms,  and  meet  with  Adventures  by  the  way  as  a 
matter  of  course. -Night  in  the  WUd  Woods  ^  «»»«  ^^y  as  a 

oo 

CHAPTER  VI. 
, '.72 


CONTENTS. 


1 


CHAPTBR  Vn. 

The  "  Watering  "  Peculiarities  of  Buflalo  Bulls,  —  The  First  Buffalo  Hunt 
audits  consequences.  —  Crusoe  comes  to  the  llcscue.  —  Pawnees  dla- 
coTereU  —  K  Monster  Builalo  Iliuit.  —  Joe  acts  the  part  of  Ambassaat      84 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Dick  and  his  Friends  visit  the  Indians  and  sco  many  Wonders.  — Crusoe, 
too,  experiences  a  few  Surprises,  and  teaches  Indian  Dogs  a  Lesson.  — 
An  Indian  Dandy.  —  A  Foot-race 106 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Crusoe  acts  a  Gon.spicuoiu  and  Humane  Part.  —  A  Friend  gained. — A 
Great  Feast 128 

CHAPTER  X. 

Perplexities.  —  Our  Hunters  Plan  their  Escape.  —  Unexpected  Interrup- 
tion. —  The  Tables  turned.  —  Crusoe  mounts  Guard.  —  The  Escape     .  186 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Evening  Meditations  and  Morninj?  Reflections.  —  Bufialoes,  Badgers,  Ante- 
lop<!s,  and  Accidents.  —  An  old  Bull  and  the  Wolves.  —  "  Mad-tails."  — 
Henri  floored,  etc ...  166 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Wanderings  on  the  Prairie.  —  A  War  Party.  —  Chased  by  Indians.  —  A 
Bold  I^ap  for  Life 171 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Escape  from  Indians.  —  A  Discovery.  —  Alone  in  the  Desert ISO 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Crusoe's  Return  and  his  Private  Adventure  among  the  Indians.  —  Dick 
at  a  very  low  Ebb. — Crusoe  saves  Him 191 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Health  and  II.i)  plness  return.  — Incidents  of  the  Journey.  —  A  BufEaio 
•hoi.  —  A  Wild  Horse  •<  Creased."'  —  Dick's  Battle  with  a  Mustang  .     .  200 


I 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CilAPTKR  XVI. 

Dick  becomes  a  Ilorso  Tamer.  -  Resumes  his  Journey.  -  CharUe's  dolug». 
-Misfortun.^  which  lead  to,  but  do  not  temUmte  In,  the  Kocky  Moun- 
tains.  — A  Uri/jsJv  Bonr  ...  ^ 

230 

CHAPTER  XVIt. 
Dick's  Fir«t  Fight  with  a  Gri^y.  -  Adventure  with  a  Deer.  -  A  Surprise  284 

CIIAl'TRR   XVIII. 
A  Surprise  and  a  Piece  of  Good  News. -The  Fur  Traders.  -  Crusoe 

proved,  and  the  Pcigans  pursued      .     .     .  «.. 

^44 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Adventures  with  the  Peigans.  -  Crusoe  does  good  Service  a.  a  Discoverer 
-The  Savages  outwitted. -The  Rescue .259 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Things.  -  A  Curious  Fight.  -  A  Narrow  Escape  and  a  Prisoner  taken  .  278 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Wolves  attack  the  Horses,  and  Cameron  circumvents  the  Wolves  -A 
Bear-hunt,  in  which  Henri  shines  conspicuous.  -Joe  and  the  -  Natter- 
Ust.    —An  Alarm.  — A  Surprise  and  a  Capture T    .    .  298 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
CharUe's  Adventure  with  Savages  and  Bears. -Trapping  Life    .    .    .    .  814 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Savage  Sports.  -  Living  Cataracts. -An  Alarm.  -  Indians  and  their 
Doings.- The  Stampede.— Charlie  again g2Z 

T 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Plans  and  Prospects. -Dick  becomes  Home-sick,  and  Henri  Metaphysi- 
cal.-TUe  Indians  attack  the  Camp. —A  Blow  up     .    .  840 


viii 

CONTKiVTS. 

CHAPTER   XXV. 
Dangers  of  the  Prairie  —  Dnr  t»    „ 
"-red  in  a  Remarkable  MalTr'"  '""'^'  '^  *^«  '°'^»'^-.  -<i  ^e. 

854 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Anxious  Fears  followed  by  a  Jovfi,i  q 
hftPPyHearta     .     .    _    .°f^"' ^"'■P"««- ~  Safe  Home  at  las.,  and 

366 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

375 


THE  DOG  CRUSOE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Backwoods  Settlement.  —  Crusoe's  Parentage  and  Early  History. 
—  The  agonizing  Pains  and  Sv,rrows  of  his  Puppyhood,  and  other 
interesting  Matters. 

The  dog  Crusoe  was  on  ;e  a  pup.  Now  do  not,  courte- 
ous reader,  toss  your  head  contemptuously,  and  exclaim, 
"  Of  course  he  was ;  I  could  have  told  you  that."  You 
know  very  well  that  you  have  often  seen  a  man  above 
six  feet  high,  broad  and  powerful  as  a  lion,  with  a 
bronzed  shaggy  visage  and  the  stern  glance  of  an  eagle, 
of  whom  you  have  said,  or  thought,  or  heard  others  say, 
"  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  believe  that  such  a  man  was 
once  a  squalling  baby."  If  you  had  seen  our  hero  in 
all  the  strength  and  majesty  of  full-grown  dog-hood, 
you  would  have  experienced  a  vague  sort  of  surprise 
had  we  told  you  —  as  we  now  repeat  —  that  the  dog  Cru- 
soe was  once  a  pup  —  a  soft,  round,  sprawling,  squeaking 
pup,  as  fat  as  a  tallow  candle,  and  as  blind  as  a  bat. 

But  we  draw  particular  attention  to  the   fact  of 

(8) 


10 


THE   BACKWOODS   SETTLEMENT. 


Crusoe's  having  once  been  a  pup,  because  in  connec- 
tion with  the  days  of  his  puppybood  there  hangs  a 
tale.  This  peculiar  dog  may  thus  be  said  to  have  had 
two  tails  —  one  in  connection  with  his  body,  the  other 
with  his  career.  This  tale,  though  short,  is  very  har- 
rowing, and  as  it  is  intimately  connected  with  Crusoe's 
subsequent  history,  we  will  relate  it  here.  But  before 
doing  so  we  must  beg  our  reader  to  accompany  us 
beyond  the  civilized  portions  of  the  United  States  of 
America  —  beyond  the  frontier  settlements  of  the  "  far 
west,"  into  those  wild  prairies  which  are  watered  by 
the  great  Missouri  river  —  the  Father  of  Waters  —  and 
his  numerous  tributaries. 

Here  dwell  the  Pawnees,  the  Sioux,  the  Delawarers, 
the  Crows,  the  Blackfeet,  and  many  other  tribes  of  Red 
Indians,  who  are  gradually  retreating  step  by  step 
towards  the  Rocky  Mountains  as  the  advancing  white 
man  cuts  down  their  trees  and  ploughs  up  their  prairies. 
Here,  "too,  dwell  the  wild  horse  and  the  wild  ass,  the 
deer,  the  buffalo,  and  the  badger ;  all,  men  and  brutes 
alike  wild  as  the  power  of  untamed  and  ungovernable 
passion  can  make  them,  and  free  as  the  wind  that 
sweeps  over  their  mighty  plains. 

There  is  a  romantic  and  exquisitely  beautiful  spot  on 
the  banks  of  one  of  the  tributaries  above  referred  to  — 
a  long  stretch  of  mingled  woodland  and  meadow,  with 
a  magnificent  lake  lying  like  a  gem  in  its  green  bosom 


••'; 


THE    BACKW00D8    SETTLEMENT. 


11 


—  which  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Mustang  Valley. 
This  remote  vale,  even  at  the  present  day,  is  but  thinly 
peopled  by  white  men,  and  is  still  a  frontier  settlement 
round  which  the  wolf  and  the  bear  prowl  curiously, 
and  from  which  the  startled  deer  bounds  terrified  away. 
At  the  period  of  which  we  write'  the  valley  had  just 
been  taken  possession  of  by  several  families  of  squatters, 
who,  tired  of  the  turmoil  and  the  squabbles  of  the  then 
frontier  settlements,  had  pushed  boldly  into  the  far 
west  to  seek  a  new  home  for  themselves,  where  they 
could  have  "elbow  room,"  regardless  alike  jf  the 
dangers  they  might  encounter  in  unknown  lands  and  of 
the  Red-skins  who  dwelt  there. 

The  squatters  were  well  armed  with  axes,  rifles,  and 
ammunition.  Most  of  the  women  were  used  to  dangers 
and  alarms,  and  placed  implicit  reliance  in  the  power 
of  their  fathers,  husbands,  and  brothers  to  protect 
them  —  and  well  they  might,  for  a  bolder  set  of  stalwart 
men  than  these  backwoodsmen  never  trod  the  wilder- 
ness. Each  had  been  trained  to  the  use  of  the  rifle  and 
the  axe  from  infancy,  and  many  of  them  bad  spent  so 
much  of  their  lives  in  the  woods,  that  they  were  more 
than  a  match  for  the  Indian  in  his  own  peculiar  pur- 
suits of  hunting  and  war.  When  the  squatters  first 
issued  from  the  woods  bordering  the  valley,  an  immense 
herd  of  wild  horses  or  mustangs  were  browsing  on  the 
plain.    These  no  sooner  beheld  the  cavalcade  of  white 


HrBB 


iffiBi 


12 


THE   BACKWOODS   SETTLEMENT. 


men,  than,  uttering  a  wild  neigh,  they  tossed  their  flow- 
ing manes  in  the  breeze  and  dashed  away  like  a  whirl- 
wind.    This  incident  procured  the  valley  its  name. 

The  new-comers  gave  one  satisfied  glance  at  their 
future  home,  and  then  set  to  work  to  erect  log  huts 
forthwith.  Soon  the  axe  was  heard  ringing  through 
the  forests,  and  tree  after  tree  fell  to  the  ground,  while 
the  occasional  sharp  ring  of  a  rifle  told  that  the  hunters 
were  catering  successfully  fo  the  camp.  In  course  of 
time  the  Mustang  Valley  began  to  assume  the  aspect  of 
a  thriving  settlement,  with  cottages  and  waving  fields 
clustered  together  in  the  midst  of  it. 

Of  course  the  savages  soon  found  it  out,  and  paid  it 
occasional  visits.  These  dark-skinned  tenants  of  the 
woods  brought  furs  of  wild  animals  with  them,  which 
they  exchanged  with  the  white  men  for  knives,  and 
beads,  and  baubles  and  trinkets  of  brass  and  tin.  But 
they  hated  "pale-faces"  with  bitter  hatred,  because 
their  encroachments  had  at  this  time  materially  cur- 
tailed the  extent  of  their  hunting  grounds,  and  nothing 
but  the  numbers  and  known  courage  of  the  squatters 
prevented  these  savages  from  butchering  and  scalping 
them  all. 

The  leader  of  this  band  of  pioneers  was  a  Major 
Hope,  a  gentleman  whose  love  for  nature  in  its  wildest 
aspects  determined  him  to  exchange  barrack  life  for  a 
life  in  the  woods.     The  major  was  a  first-rate  shot,  a 


t.^' 


CRUSOE  S    PARENTAGE, 


18 


lajor 
Jdest 
'  a 
lot,  a 


bold,  fearless  man,  and  an  enthusiastic  naturalist.  He 
was  past  the  prime  of  life,  and,  being  a  bachelor,  was 
unencumbered  with  i  family.  His  first  act  on  reaching 
the  site  of  the  new  settlement  was  to  commence  the 
erection  of  a  block-house,  to  which  the  people  might 
retire  in  case  of  a  general  attack  hy  the  Indians. 

In  this  block-house  Major  Hope  took  up  his  abode 
as  the  guardian  of  the  settlement,  —  and  here  the  dog 
Crusoe  was  born ;  here  he  sprawled  in  the  early  morn 
of  life;  here  he  leaped,  and  yelped,  and  wagged  his 
shaggy  tail  in  the  excessive  glee  of  puppyhood,  and 
from  the  wooden  portals  of  this  block-house  he  bounded 
forth  to  the  chase  in  all  the  fire,  and  strength,  and  maj- 
esty of  full  grown  doghood. 

Crusoe's  father  and  mother  were  magnificent  New- 
foundlanders. There  was  no  doubt  as  to  their  being  of 
the  genuine  breed,  for  Major  Hope  had  received  them 
as  a  parting  gift  from  a  brother  officer,  who  had  brought 
them  both  from  Newfoundland  itself.  The  father's 
name  was  Crusoe ;  the  mother's  name  was  Fan.  Why 
the  father  had  been  so  called  no  one  could  tell.  The 
man  from  whom  Major  Hope's  friend  had  obtained  the 
pair  was  a  poor,  illiterate  fishei'man,  who  had  never 
heard  of  the  celebrated  "  Robinson,"  in  all  his  life.  All 
he  knew  was  that  Fan  had  been  named  after  his  own 
wife.  As  for  Crusoe,  he  had  got  iliim  from  a  friend, 
who  had  got  him  from  another  friend,  whose  cousin  had 


14 


EARLY   TROUBLES. 


received  him  as  a  marriage  gift  from  a  friend  of  ^w; 
and  that  each  had  said  to  the  other  that  the  dog's  name 
was  "  Crusoe,"  without  reasons  being  a&ked  or  given 
on  either  side.  On  arriving  at  New  York  the  major's 
friend,  as  we  have  said,  made  him  a  present  of  tlie  dogs. 
Not  being  much  of  a  dog  fancier,  he  soon  tired  of  old 
Crusoe,  arid  gave  him  away  to  a  gentleman,  who  took 
him  down  to  Florida,  and  that  was  the  end  of  him.  He 
was  never  heard  of  more. 

When  Crusoe,  junior,  was  born,  he  was  born,  of 
course,  without  a  name.  That  was  given  to  him  after- 
wards, in  honor  of  his  father.  He  was  also  born  in 
company  with  a  brother  and  two  sisters,  all  of  whom 
drowned  themselves  accidentally,  in  the  first  month  of 
their  existence,  by  falling  into  the  river  which  flowed 
past  the  block-house,  —  a  calamity  which  occurred, 
doubtless,  in  consequence  of  their  having  gone  out  with- 
out their  mother's  leave.  Little  Crusoe  was  with  his 
brother  and  sisters  at  the  time,  and  fell  in  along  with 
them,  but  was  saved  from  sharing  their  fate  by  his 
mother,  who,  seeing  what  had  happened,  dashed  with  an 
agonized  howl  into  the  water,  and,  seizing  him  in  her 
mouth,  brought  him  ashore  in  a  half  drowned  condition. 
She  afterwards  brought  the  others  ashore  one  by  one, 
but  the  poor  little  things  were  dead. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  harrowing  part  of  our  tale, 
for  the  proper  understanding  of  which  the  foregoing 
dissertation  was  needful. 


THE    YOUNG   HUNTEH. 


15 


One  beautiful  afternoon,  in  that  charming  season  of 
the  American  year  called  the  Indian  summer,  there 
came  a  family  of  Sioux  Indians  to  the  Mustang  Valley, 
and  pitched  their  tent  close  to  the  block-house.  A 
young  hunter  stood  leaning  against  the  gate-post  of  the 
palisades,  watching  the  movements  of  the  Indians,  who, 
having  just  finished  a  long  "palaver"  or  "talk"  with 
Major  Hope,  were  now  in  the  act  of  preparing  supper. 
A  fire  had  been  kindled  on  the  green  sward  in  front  of 
the  tent,  and  above  it  stood  a  tripod,  from  which  de- 
pended a  large  tin  camp  kettle.  Over  this  hung  an 
ill-favored  Indian  woman,  or  squaw,  who,  besides  at- 
tending to  the  contents  of  the  pot,  bestowed  sundry 
cuffs  and  kicks  upon  her  little  child,  which  sat  near  to 
her  playing  with  several  Indian  curs  that  gambolled 
round  the  fire.  The  master  of  the  family  and  his  two 
sons  reclined  on  buffalo  robes,  smoking  their  stone  pipes 
or  calumets  in  silence.  There  was  nothing  peculiar  in 
their  appearance.  Their  faces  were  neither  dignified 
por  coarse  in  expression,  but  wore  an  aspect  of  stupid 
apathy,  which  formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  counte- 
nance of  the  young  hunter,  who  seemed  an  amused 
spectator  of  their  proceedings. 

The  youth  referred  to  was  very  unlike,  in  many 
respects,  to  what  we  arc  accustomed  to  suppose  a  back- 
woods hunter  should  be.  He  did  not  possess  that  quiet 
gravity  and  staid  demeanor  which  often  characterize 


le 


THE   YOUNG  HUNTER. 


these  men.  True,  he  was  tall  and  strongly  made,  but 
no  one  would  have  called  him  stalwart,  and  his  frame 
indicated  grace  and  agility  rather  than  strength.  But 
the  point  about  him  which  rendered  him  dififerent  from 
his  companions  was,  his  bounding,  irrepressible  flow  of 
spirits,  strangely  coupled  with  an  intense  love  of  soli- 
tary wandering  in  the  woods.  None  seemed  so  well 
fitted  for  social  enjoyment  as  he ;  none  laughed  so  heart- 
ily, or  expressed  such  glee  in  his  mischief-loving  eye ; 
yet  for  days  together  he  went  off  alone  into  the  forest, 
and  wandered  where  his  fancy  led  him,  as  grave  and 
•  silent  as  an  Indian  warrior. 

After  all,  there  was  nothing  mysterious  in  this.  The 
boy  followed  implicitly  the  dictates  of  nature  within 
him.  He  was  amiable,  straightforward,  sanguine,  and 
intensely  earnest.  When  he  laughed  he  let  it  out,  as 
sailors  have  it,  "  with  a  will."  When  there  was  good 
cause  to  be  grave,  no  power  on  earth  could  make  him 
smile.  We  have  called  him  boy,  but  in  truth  he  was 
about  that  uncertain  period  of  life  when  a  youth  is  said 
to  be  neither  a  man  nor  a  boy.  His  face  was  good- 
looking  {every  earnest,  candid  face  is)  and  mascuhne ; 
his  hair  was  reddish  brown,  and  his  eye  bright  blue. 
He  was  costumed  in  the  deer-skin  cap,  leggins,  moccas- 
sins,  and  leathern  shirt  common  to  the  western  hunter. 
■  "You  seem  tickled  wi'  the  Injuns,  Dick  Varley," 
said  a  man  who  at  that  moment  issued  from  the  Block 
House. 


A   NARROW   ESCAPE. 


17 


"That's  just  what  I  am,  Joe  Blunt,"  replied  the 
youth,  turning  with  a  broad  grin  to  his  companion. 

"  Have  a  care,  lad ;  do  not  laugh  at  'em  too  much. 
They  soon  take  offence ;  an'  them  red-skins  never  for- 
give." 

"  But  I'm  only  laughing  at  the  baby,"  returned  the 
youth,  pointing  to  the  child,  which,  with  a  mixture  of 
boldness  and  timidity,  was  playing  with  a  pup,  wrink- 
ling up  its  fat  visage  into  a  smile  when  its  playmate 
rushed  away  in  sport,  and  opening  wide  its  jet-black 
eyes  in  grave  anxiety  as  the  pup  returned  at  full  gallop. 

"  It  'ud  make  an  owl  laugh,"  continued  young  Var- 
ley,  "  to  see  such  a  queer  pictur'  o'  itself." 

He  paused  suddenly,  and  a  dark  frown  covered  his 
face  as  he  saw  the  Indian  woman  stoop  quickly  down, 
catch  the  pup  by  its  hind-leg  with  one  hand,  seize  a 
heavy  piece  of  wood  with  the  other,  and  striie  it  several 
violent  blows  on  the  throat.  Without  taking  the 
trouble  to  kill  the  poor  animal  outright,  the  savage  then 
held  its  still  writhing  body  over  the  fire  in  order  to 
singe  off  the  hair  before  putting  it  into  the  pot  to  be 
cooked. 

The  cruel  act  drew  young  Varley's  attention  more 
closely  to  the  pup,  and  it  flashed  across  his  mind  that 
this  could  be  na  other  than  young  Crusoe,  which 
neither  he  nor  his  companion  had  before  seen,  although 
they  had  oflen  heard  others  speak  of  and  describe  it. 

2« 


18 


THE   RESCUE. 


Had  the  little  creature  been  one  of  the  unfortunate 
Indian  curs,  the  two  hunters  would  probably  have 
turned  from  the  sickening  sight  with  disgust,  feeling 
that,  however  much  they  might  dislike  such  cruelty, 
it  would  be  of  no  use  attempting  to  interfere  with 
Indian  usages.  But  the  instant  the  idea  that  it  was 
Crusoe  occurred  to  Varley  he  uttered  a  yell  of  anger, 
and  sprang  towards  the  woman  with  a  bound  that  caused 
the  three  Indians  to  leap  to  their  feet  and  grasp  their 
tomahawks. 

Blunt  did  not  move  from  the  gate,  but  threw  forward 
his  rifle  with  a  careless  motion,  but  an  expressive 
glance,  that  caused  the  Indians  to  resume  their  seats 
and  pipes  with  an  emphatic  "  Wah ! "  of  disgust  at  hav- 
ing been  startled  out  of  their  propriety  by  a  trifle,  while 
Dick  Varley  snatched  poor  Crusoe  from  his  dangerous 
and  painful  position,  scowled  angrily  in  the  woman's 
face,  and,  turning  on  his  heel,  walked  up  to  the  house, 
holding  the  pup  tenderly  in  his  arms. 

Joe  Blunt  gazed  after  his  friend  with  a  grave, 
solemn  expression  of  countenance  till  he  disappeared ; 
then  he  looked  at  the  ground  and  shook  his  head. 

Joe  was  one  of  the  regular  out-and-out  backwoods 
hunters,  both  in  appearance  and  in  fact  —  broad,  tall, 
massive,  lion-like,  —  gifted  with  the  hunting,  stalking, 
running,  and  trail-following  powers  of  the  savage,  and 
with  a  superabundance  of  the  shooting   and  fighting 


THE   RESCUE. 


19 


powers,  the  daring  and  dash  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  He 
was  grave,  too  —  seldom  smiled,  and  rarely  laughed. 
His  expression  almost  at  all  times  was  a  compound  of 
seriousness  and  good-humor.  "With  the  rifle  he  was  a 
good,  steady  shot ;  but  by  no  means  a  "  crack  "  one. 
His  ball  never  failed  to  hitf  but  it  often  failed  to 
kiil. 

After  meditating  a  few  seconds,  Joe  Blunt  again 
shook  his  head,  and  muttered  to  himself,  "  The  boy's 
bold  enough,  but  he's  too  reckless  for  a  hunter.  There 
was  no  need  for  that  yell,  now  —  none  at  all." 

Having  uttered  this  sagacious  remark,  he  threw  his 
rifle  into  the  hollow  of  his  left  arm,  turned  round,  and 
strode  oflf  with  a  long,  slow  step  towards  his  own  cot- 
tage. 

Blunt  was  an  American  by  birth,  but  of  Irish  extrac- 
tion, and  to  an  attentive  ear  there  was  a  faint  echo  of 
the  brogue  in  his  tone,  which  seemed  to  have  been  handed 
down  to  him  as  a  thread-bare  and  almost  worn-out  heir- 
loom. 

Poor  Crusoe  was  singed  almost  naked.  His  wretched 
tail  seemed  little  better  than  a  piece  of  wire  filed  off  to 
a  point,  and  he  vented  his  misery  in  piteous  squeaks  as 
the  sympathetic  Varley  confided  him  tenderly  to  the 
care  of  his  mother.  How  Fan  managed  to  cure  him  no 
one  can  tell,  but  cure  him  she  did,  for,  in  the  course  of 
a  few  weeks,  Crusoe  was  as  well,  and  sleek,  and  fat  as 


ever. 


20 


THE   SHOOTING   MATCH. 


i 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  Shooting  Match  and  its  consequences.  —  New  Friends  introduced 
to  the  Reader.  —  Crusoe  and  hia  Mother  change  Masters. 

Shortly  after  the  incident  narrated  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, the  squatters  of  the  Mustang  Valley  lost  thair  leader. 
Major  Hope  suddenly  announced  his  intention  of 
quitting  the  settlement,  and  returning  to  the  civilized 
world.  Private  matters,  he  said,  required  his  presence 
there  —  matters  which  he  did  not  choose  to  speak  of, 
but  which  would  prevent  his  returning  again  to  reside 
among  them.  Go  he  must,  and  being  a  man  of  deter- 
mination, go  he  did ;  but  before  going  he  distributed 
all  his  goods  and  chattels  among  the  settlers.  He  even 
gave  away  his  rifle,  and  Fan,  and  Crusoe.  These  last, 
however,  he  resolved  should  go  together ;  and  as  they 
were  well  worth  having,  he  announced  that  he  would 
give  them  to  the  best  shot  in  the  valley.  He  stipu- 
lated that  the  winner  should  escort  him  to  the  nearest 
settlement  eastward,  after  which  he  might  return  with 
the  rifle  on  his  shoulder. 

Accordingly,  a  long  level  piece  of  ground  on  the 
river's  bank,  with  a  perpendicular  cliflf  at  the  end  of  it, 


THE   SHOOTING   MATCH. 


21 


was  selected  as  the  shooting  ground,  and,  on  the  ap- 
pointed day,  at  the  appointed  hour,  the  competitors  be- 
gan to  assemble. 

"  Well,  lad,  first  as  usual,"  exclaimed  Joe  Blunt,  aa 
he  reached  the  ground  and  found  Dick  Varley  there  be- 
fore him. 

"  I've  bin  here  more  than  an  hour  lookin*  for  a  new 
kind  o'  flower  that  Jack  Morgan  told  me  he'd  seen. 
And  I've  found  it  too.  Look  here ;  did  you  ever  see 
one  like  it  before  ?  " 

Blunt  leaned  his  rifle  against  the  tree,  and  carefully 
examined  the  flower. 

"  Why,  yes,  I've  seed  a-many  o'  them  up  about  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  but  never  one  here-away.  It  seems 
to  have  gone  lost  itself.  The  last  I  seed,  if  I  remimber 
rightly,  wos  near  the  head-waters  o'  the  ^Yellowstone 
River,  it  wos  — jest  where  I  shot  a  grizzly  bar." 

"Was  that  the  bar  that  gave  you  the  wipe  on  the 
cheek?"  asked  Varley,  forgetting  the  flower  in  his 
interest  about  the  bear. 

"  It  wos.  X  put  six  balls  in  that  bar's  carcase,  and 
stuck  my  knife  into  its  heart  ten  times  afore  it  gave 
out ;  an'  it  nearly  ripped  the  shirt  off  my  back  afore  I 
wos  done  with  it." 

"  I  would  give  my  rifle  to  get  a  chance  at  a  grizzly ! " 
exclaimed  Varley,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  enthusiasm. 

"Whoever  got  it  wouldn't  have  much  to  brag  of,'* 


22 


THE   SHOOTING  MATCH. 


remarked  a  burly  young  backwoodsman,  as  he  joined 
them. 

His  remark  was  true,  for  poor  Dick's  weapon  was 
but  a  sorrv  affair.  It  missed  fi'*'',  and  it  hung  fire,  and 
even  when  it  did  fire  it  remained  a  matter  of  doubt  in 
its  owner's  mind  whether  the  flight  deviations  from  the 
direct  line  made  by  his  bullets  were  the  result  of  his  or 
its  bad  shooting. 

Further  comment  upon  it  was  checked  by  the  arrival 
of  a  dozen  or  more  hunters  on  the  scene  of  action. 
They  were  a  sturdy  set  of  bronzed,  bold,  fearless  men, 
and  one  felt,  on  looking  r.t  them,  that  they  would 
prove  more  than  a  match  for  several  hundreds  of 
Indians  in  open  fight.  A  few  minute?  after,  the  major 
himself  came  on  the  ground  with  the  prize  rifle  on  his 
shoulder,  and  Fan  and  Crusoe  at  his  heels  —  the  latter 
tumbling,  scrambling,  and  yelping  after  its  mother,  fat 
and  clumsy,  and  happy  as  possible,  having  evidently 
quite  forgotten  that  it  had  been  nearly  roasted  alive 
only  a  few  weeks  before. 

Immediately  all  eyes  were  on  the  rifle,  and  its  merits 
were  discussed  with  animation. 

And  well  did  it  deserve  discussion,  for  such  a  piece 
had  never  before  been  seen  on  the  western  frontier.  It 
was  shorter  in  the  barrel  and  larger  in  the  bore  than 
the  weapons  chiefly  in  vogue  at  that  time,  and  besides 
being  of  beautiful  workmanship,  was   sUver  mounted. 


5#* 


THE    SHOOTING   MATCH. 


23 


But  the  grand  peculiarity  about  it,  and  that  which  after- 
wards rendered  it  the  mystery  of  mysteries  to  the 
savages,  was,  that  it  had  two  sets  of  locks  —  one  per- 
cussion, the  other  flint  —  so  that,  when  caps  failed,  by 
taking  off  the  one  set  of  locks  and  affixing  the  others, 
it  was  converted  into  a  flint-i'ifle.  The  major,  how- 
ever, took  care  never  to  run  short  of  caps,  so  that  the 
flint  locks  were  merely  held  as  a  reserve  in  case  of  need. 

"  Now,  lads,"  cried  Major  Hope,  stepping  up  to  the 
point  whence  they  were  to  shoot,  "  remember  the  teims. 
He  who  first  drives  the  nail  obtains  the  rifle,  Fan,  and 
her  pup,  and  accompanies  me  to  the  nearest  settlements. 
Each  man  shoots  with  his  own  gun,  and  draws  lots  for 
the  chance." 

"  Agreed,"  cried  the  men. 

"  Well,  then,  wipe  your  guns  and  draw  lots.  Henri 
will  fix  the  nail.     Here  it  is." 

The  individual  who  stepped,  or  rather  plunged  for- 
ward to  receive  the  nail  was  a  rare  and  remarkable 
specimen  of  mankind.  Like  his  comrades,  he  was  half 
a  farmer  and  half  a  hunter.  Like  them,  too,  he  was 
clad  in  deer-skin,  and  was  tall  and  strong  —  nay,  more, 
he  was  gigantic.  But,  unlike  them,  he  was  clumsy, 
awkward,  loose  jointed,  and  a  bad  shot.  Nevertheless 
Henri  was  an  immense  favorite  in  the  settlement,  for 
his  good-humor  knew  no  bounds.  No  one  ever  saw 
him  frown.     Even  when  fighting  with  the  savages,  as 


24 


THE   SHOOTING   MATCH. 


he  was  som(?times  compelled  to  do  in  self-defence,  he 
went  at  tliera  with  a  sort  of  jovial  rage  that  was  almost 
laughable.  Inconsiderate  recklessness  was  one  of  his 
chief  characteristics,  so  that  his  comrades  were  rather 
afraid  of  him  on  the  war-trail  or  in  the  hunt,  where 
caution,  and  frequently  soundless  motion,  were  essential 
to  success  or  safety.  But  when  Henri  had  a  comrade 
at  his  side  to  check  him  he  was  safe  enough,  being 
humble-minded  and  obedient.  Men  used  to  say  he 
must  have  been  born  under  a  lucky  star,  for  notwitli- 
standing  his  natural  inaptitude  for  all  sorts  of  back- 
woods life,  he  managed  to  scramble  through  every  thing 
with  safety,  often  with  success,  and  sometimes  with  credit. 
To  see  Henri  stalk  a  deer  was  worth  a  long  day's 
journey.  Joe  Blunt  used  to  say  he  was  "all  jints 
together,  from  the  top  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his 
moccassin."  He  threw  his  immense  form  into  the 
most  inconceivable  contortions,  and  slowly  wound  his 
way,  sometimes  on  hands  and  knees,  sometimes  flat, 
through  bush  and  brake,  as  if  there  was  not  a  bone  in 
his  body,  and  without  the  slightest  noise.  This  sort 
of  work  was  so  much  against  his  plunging  nature,  that 
he  took  long  to  learn  it,  but  when,  through  hard 
practice  and  the  loss  of  many  a  fine  deer,  he  came  at 
length  to  break  himself  in  to  it,  he  gradually  pro- 
gressed to  perfection,  and  ultimately  became  the  best 
stalker  in  the  valley.     This,  and  this,  alone,  enabled 


S 


THE   SHOOTING   MATCH. 


U 


him  to  procure  game,  for  being  short.-sighted,  he  could 
hit  nothing  beyond  fifty  yards,  except  a  buffalo  or  a 
barn  door. 

Yet  that  same  lithe  body,  which  seemed  as  though 
totally  unhinged,  could  no  more  be  bent,  when  the 
muscles  were  strung,  than  an  iron  post.  No  one 
wrestled  with  Henri  unless  he  wished  to  have  his  back 
broken.  Few  could  equal  and  none  could  beat  him  at 
running  or  leaping  except  Dick  Varley.  When  Henri 
ran  a  race  even  Joe  Blunt  laughed  out-right,  for  arms 
and  legs  went  like  independent  flails.  When  he 
leaped,  he  hurled  himself  into  space  with  a  degree  of 
violence  that  seemed  to  insure  a  somersault  —  yet  he 
always  came  down  with  a  crash  on  his  feet.  Plunging 
was  Henri's  forte.  He  generally  lounged  about  the 
settlemen;,  when,  unoccupied,  with  his  hands  behind 
his  back,  apparently  in  a  reverie,  and  when  called  on 
to  act,  he  seemed  to  fancy  he  must  have  lost  time,  and 
could  onJy  make  up  for  it  by  plunging.  This  habit 
got  him  into  many  awkward  scrapes,  but  his  Hg-culeaii 
power  as  often  got  him  out  of  them.  He  was  a  French- 
Canadian,  and  a  particularly  bad  speaker  of  the  English 
language. 

We  offer  no  apology  for  this  elaborate  introduction 
of  Henri,  for  he  was  as  good-hearted  a  fellow  as  ever 
lived,  and  deserves  special  notice. 

But  to  return.     The  sort  of  rifle  practice  called 


I 


26 


THE    SHOOTING    MATCH. 


!  i 


"  driving  the  nail,"  by  which  this  match  was  to  be 
decided,  was,  and  we  believe  still  is,  common  among 
the  hunters  of  the  far  west.  It  consisted  in  this,  —  an 
ordinary  large-headed  nail  was  driven  a  short  way  into 
a  plank  or  a  tree,  and  the  hunters,  standing  at  a  dis- 
tance of  fifty  yards  or  so,  fired  at  it  until  they  succeeded 
in  driving  it  home.  On  the  present  o^'iasion  the  major 
resolved  to  test  their  shooting  by  making  the  distance 
seventy  yards. 

Some  of  the  older  men  shook  their  heads. 

"  It's  too  far,"  said  one ;  "  ye  might  as  well  try  to 
snuff  the  nose  o'  a  mosquitoe." 

"  Jim  Scraggs  is  the  only  man  as'll  hit  that,"  said 
another^ 

The  man  referred  to  was  a  long,  lank,  lantern-jawed 
fellow  with  a  cross-grained  expression  of  countenance. 
He  used  the  long,  heavy  Kentucky  rifle,  which,  from 
the  ball  being  little  larger  than  a  pea,  was  called  a  pea- 
rifle.  Jim  was  no  favorite,  and  had  been  named  Scraggs 
by  his  companions  on  account  of  his  appearance. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  lots  were  drawn,  and  the 
shooting  began.  Each  hunter  wiped  out  the  barrel  of 
his  piece  with  his  ram-rod  as  he  stepped  forward ;  then, 
placing  a  ball  in  the  palm  of  his  left  hand,  he  drew  the 
stopper  of  his  powder-horn  with  his  teeth,  and  poured 
out  as  much  powder  as  sufficed  to  cover  the  bullet. 
This  was  the  regular  measure  among  them.     Little  time 


i 

i 

1! 

': 

THE    SHOOTING    MATCH. 


27 


was  to  be 
ion  among 


this. 


an 


ft  way  into 
g  at  a  dia- 
'■  succeeded 
1  the  major 
he  distance 


»vell  try  to 

that,"  said 

itern-jawed 
mntenance. 
rhich,  from 
tiled  a  pea- 
ed  Scraggs 
lice. 

,  and  the 
le  barrel  of 
ard;  then, 
e  drew  the 
nd  poured 
the  bullet. 
Little  time 


T;ras  lost  in  firing,  for  these  men  did  not "  hang "  on 
their  aim.  The  point  of  the  rifle  was  slowly  raised  to 
the  object,  and,  the  instant  the  sight  covered  it,  the  ball 
sped  to  its  mark.  In  a  few  minutes  the  nail  was  encir- 
cled by  bullet  holes,  scarcely  two  of  which  were  more 
than  an  inch  distant  from  the  mark,  and  one  —  fired  by 
Joe  Blunt  —  entered  the  tree  close  beside  it. 

"  Ah,  Joe ! "  said  the  major,  "  I  thought  you  would 
have  carried  off*  the  prize." 

*'  So  did  not  I,  sir,"  returned  Blunt,  with  a  shake  of 
his  head.  "  Had  it  a-bin  a  half-dollar  at  a  hundred 
yards,  I'd  ha  done  better,  but  I  never  could  hit  the  nail. 
It's  too  small  to  see" 

"  That's  cos  ye've  got  no  eyes,"  remarked  Jim  Scraggs, 
with  a  sneer,  as  he  stepped  forward. 

All  tongues  were  now  hushed,  for  the  expected 
champion  was  about  to  fire.  The  sharp  crack  of  the 
rifle  was  followed  by  a  shout,  for  Jim  had  hit  the 
nail-head  on  the  edge,  and  part  of  the  bullet  stuck 
to  it. 

"That  wins  if  there's  no  better,"  said  the  major, 
scarce  able  to  conceal  his  disappointment.  "  Who  comes 
next?" 

To  this  question  Henri  answered  by  stepping  up  to 
the  line,  straddling  his  legs,  and  executing  preliminary 
movements  with  his  rifle,  that  seemed  to  indicate  an 
intention  on  his  part  to  throw  the  weapon  bodily  at 


28 


THE    SHOOTING  MATCH. 


the  mark.  He  was  received  with  a  shout  of  mingled 
laughter  and  applause.  After  gazing  steadily  at  the 
mark  for  a  few  seconds,  a  broad  grin  overspread  his 
countenance,  and,  looking  round  at  his  companions,  he 
said  — 

"  Ha !  mes  boys,  I  can-not  behold  de  nail  at  all !  '* 

"  Can  ye  '  behold '  the  tree  ?  "  shouted  a  voice,  when 
the  laugh  that  followed  tliis  announcement  had  some- 
what abated. 

"  Oh !  oui,"  replied  Henri  quite  coolly ;  "  I  can  see 
him,  an'  a  goot  small  bit  of  de  forest  beyond." 

"  Fire  at  it,  then.  If  ye  hit  the  tree  ye  desarve  the 
rifle  —  leastwise  j  >  ought  to  get  the  pup.'* 

Henri  grinned  again,  and  fired  instantly,  without  tak- 


ing aim. 


The  shot  was  followed  by  an  exclamation  of  surprise, 
for  the  bullet  was  found  close  beside  the  nail ! 

"It's  more  be  good  luck  than  good  shootin',"  re- 
marked Jim  Scraggs. 

"  Possiblement,"  answered  Henri,  modestly,  as  he  re- 
treated to  the  rear  and  wiped  out  his  rifle;  "mais  I 
have  kill  most  of  my  deer  by  dat  same  goot  luck." 

"Bravo!  Henri,"  said  Major  Hope  as  he  passed; 
"  you  deserve  to  win,  anyhow.     Who's  next  ?  " 

"  Dick  Varley,"  cried  several  voices ;  "  where's  Var- 
ley  ?     Come  on,  youngster,  an'  take  yer  shot." 

The  youth  came  forward  with  evident  reluctance. 


I 
I 


k 


THE    SHOOTING  MATCH. 


29 


"  It's  of  no  manner  o*  use,"  he  whispered  to  Joe  Blunt 
as  he  passed,  "  I  can't  depend  on  my  old  gun." 

"  Never  give  in,"  whispered  Blunt,  encouragingly. 

Poor  Varley's  want  of  confidence  in  his  rifle  was 
merited,  for,  on  pulling  the  trigger,  the  faithless  lock 
missed  fire. 

"  Lend  him  another  gun,"  cried  several  voicej. 

"'Gainst  rules  laid  down  by  Major  Hope,"  said 
Scraggs. 

"  Well,  so  it  is ;  try  again." 

Varley  did  try  again,  and  so  successfully,  too,  that 
the  ball  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  leaving  a  portion  of 
the  lead  sticking  to  its  edge. 

Of  course  this  was  greeted  with  a  cheer,  and  a  loud 
dispute  began  as  to  which  was  the  better  shot  of  the 
two. 

"There  are  others  to  shoot  yet,"  cried  the  major. 

"  Make  way.     Look  out." 

The  men  fell  back,  and  the  few  hunters  who  had  not 
yet  fired,  took  their  shots,  but  without  coming  nearer 
the  mark. 

It  was  now  agreed  that  Jim  Scraggs  and  Dick  Var- 
ley, being  the  two  best  shots,  should  try  over  again; 
and  it  was  also  agreed  that  Dick  should  have  the  use  of 
Blunt's  rifle.  Lots  were  again  drawn  for  the  first  shot, 
and  it  fell  to  Dick,  who  immediately  stepped  out,  aimed 
somewhat  hastily,  and  fired. 

3* 


80 


THE   SHOOTING   MATCH. 


"  Hit  again ! "  shouted  those  who  had  run  forward  to 
examine  the  mark.  "  Half  the  bullet  cut  off  by  the 
nail  head !  '* 

Some  of  the  more  enthusiastic  of  Dick's  friends 
cheered  lustily,  but  the  most  of  the  hunters  were  grave 
and  silent,  for  they  knew  Jim's  powers,  and  felt  that  he 
would  certainly  do  his  best.  Jim  now  stepped  up  to 
the  line,  and,  looking  earnestly  at  the  mark,  threw  for- 
ward his  rifle. 

At  that  moment  our  friend  Crusoe  —  tired  of  tor- 
menting his  mother  —  waddled  stupidly  and  innocently 
into  the  midst  of  the  crowd  of  men,  and,  in  so  doing, 
received  Henri's  heel  and  the  full  weight  of  his  elephan- 
tine body  on  its  fore  paw.  The  horrible  and  electric 
yell  that  instantly  issued  from  his  agonized  throat  could 
only  be  compai'ed,  as  Joe  Blunt  expressed  it,  "  to  the 
last  dyin'  screech  o'  a  bustin'  steam  biler ! "  We  can- 
not say  that  the  effect  was  startling,  for  these  back- 
woodsmen had  been  born  and  bred  in  the  midst  of 
alarms,  and  were  so  used  to  them  that  a  "  bustin'  steam 
biler "  itself,  unless  it  had  blown  them  fairly  off  their 
legs,  would  not  have  startled  them.  But  the  effect, 
such  as  it  was,  was  sufficient  to  disconcert  the  aim  of 
Jim  Scraggs,  who  fired  at  the  same  instant,  and  missed 
the  nail  by  a  hair's  breadth. 

Turning  round  in  towering  wrath,  Scraggs  aimed  a 
kick  at  the  poor  pup,  which,  had  it  taken  effect,  would 


THE   WINNER. 


81 


svard  to 
by  the 

friends 
•e  grave 

that  he 
d  up  to 
irew  for- 

.  of  tor- 
inocently 
30  doing, 
elephan- 
1  electric 
oat  could 
"to  the 
We  can- 
se  back- 
midst  of 
in'  steam 
off  their 
e  effect, 
le  aim  of 
id  missed 

aimed  a 
lot,  would 


i 


certainly  have  terminated  the  innocent  existence  of  that 
remarkable  dog  on  the  spot,  but  quick  as  lightning 
Henri  interposed  the  butt  of  his  rifle,  and  Jim's  shin 
met  it  with  a  violence  that  caused  him  to  howl  with 
rage  and  pai«. 

"  Oh !  pardon  me  broder,"  cried  Henri,  shrinking  back, 
with  the  drollest  expression  of  mingled  pity  and  glee. 

Jim's  discretion,  on  this  occasion,  was  superior  to  his 
valor;  he  turned  away  with  a  coarse  expression  of 
anger  and  left  the  ground. 

Meanwhile  the  major  handed  the  silver  rifle  to  young 
Varley.  "  It  couldn't  have  fallen  into  better  hands,"  he 
said.  "  You'll  do  it  credit,  lad,  I  know  that  full  well, 
and  let  me  assure  you  it  will  never  play  you  false. 
Only  keep  it  clean,  don't  overcharge  it,  aim  true,  and  it 
will  never  miss  the  mark." 

While  the  hunters  crowded  round  Dick  to  congratu- 
late him  and  examine  the  piece,  he  stood  with  a  min- 
gled feeling  of  bashfulness  and  delight  at  his  unexpected 
good  fortune.  Recovering  himself  suddenly,  he  seized 
his  old  rifle,  and,  dropping  quietly  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd,  while  the  men  were  still  busy  handling  and 
discussing  the  merits  of  the  prize,  went  up,  unobserved, 
to  a  boy  of  about  thirteen  yeais  of  age,  and  touched  him 
on  the  shoulder. 

"Here,  Marston,  you  know  I  often  said  ye  should 
have  the  old  rifle  when  I  was  rich  enough  to  get  a  new 


rT 


82 


THE   WINNER. 


F 


i 


one.  Take  it  now,  lad.  It's  come  to  ye  sooner  than 
either  o'  us  expected." 

"  Dick,"  said  the  boy,  grasping  his  friend's  hand 
warmly,  "yer  true  as  heart  of  oak.  It's  good  of  'ee, 
that's  a  fact." 

"  Not  a  bit,  boy ;  it  costs  me  nothin*  to  give  away  an 
old  gun  that  I've  no  use  for,  an's  worth  little,  but  it 
makes  me  right  glad  to  have  the  chance  to  do  it.'* 

Marston  had  longed  for  a  rifle  ever  since  he  could 
walk,  but  his  prospects  of  obti  ining  one  were  very  poor 
indeed  at  that  time,  and  it  is  a  question  whether  he  did 
not  at  that  moment  experience  as  much  joy  in  hand- 
ling the  old  piece,  a,s  his  friend  felt  in  shouldering  the 
prize. 

A  difficulty  now  occurred  which  had  not  before  been 
thought  of.  This  was  no  less  than  the  absolute  refusal 
of  Dick  Varley's  canine  property  to  follow  him.  Fan 
had  no  idea  of  changing  masters  without  her  consent 
being  asked,  or  her  inclination  being  consulted. 

*<  You'll  have  to  tie  her  up  for  a  while,  I  fear,"  said 
the  major. 

"  No  fear,"  answered  the  youth.  "  Dog  natur's  like 
human  natur' ! " 

Saying  this  he  seized  Crusoe  by  the  neck,  stuffed 
him  comfortably  into  the  bosom  of  his  hunting  shirt, 
and  walked  rapidly  away  with  the  prize  rifle  on  his 
shoulder. 


A  mother's  love. 


Bd 


Fan  had  not  bargained  for  this.  She  stood  irreso- 
lute, gazing  now  to  the  right  and  now  to  the  left,  as  the 
major  retired  in  one  direction  and  Dick  with  Crusoe  in 
another.  Suddenly  Crusoe,  who,  although  comfortable 
in  body,  was  ill  at  ease  in  spirit,  gave  utterance  to  a 
melancholy  howl._  The  mother's  love  instantly  pre- 
vailed. For  one  moment  she  pricked  up  her  ears  at 
the  sound,  and  then,  lowering  them,  trotted  quietly  after 
her  new  master,  and  followed  him  to  his  cottage  on  the 
margin  of  the  lake. 


^  I 


% 


84 


SPECULATIVE   REUARK8. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Speculative  Remarks  with  which  the  Reader  may  or  may  not  agree. 
—  An  Old  Woman.  —  Hopes  and  Wishes  commingled  with  Hard 
Facts.  —  The  Dog  Crusoe's  Education  begun. 

It  is  pleasant  to  look  upon  a  serene,  quiet,  humble 
face.  On  such  a  face  did  Richard  Varley  look  every 
night  when  he  entered  his  mother's  cottage.  Mrs.  Var- 
ley was  a  widow,  and  she  had  followed  the  fortunes  of 
her  brother,  Daniel  Hood,  ever  since  the  death  of  her 
husband.  Love  for  her  only  brother  induced  her  to 
forsake  the  peaceful  village  of  Maryland,  and  enter  upon 
the  wild  life  of  a  backwoods  settlement.  Dick's  mother 
was  thin,  and  old,  and  wrinkled,  but  her  face  was  stamped 
with  a  species  of  beauty  which  never  fades  —  the  beauty 
of  a  loving  look.  Ah !  the  brow  of  snow  and  the  peach- 
bloom  cheek  may  snare  the  heart  of  man  for  a  time, 
but  the  loving  look  alone  can  forge  that  adamantine  chain 
that  time,  age,  eternity,  shall  never  break. 

Mistake  us  not,  reader,  and  bear  with  us  if  we  at- 
tempt to  analyze  this  look  which  characterized  Mrs. 
Varley.  A  rare  diamond  is  worth  stopping  to  glance 
at,  even  when  one  is  in  a  hurry !     The  brightest  jewel 


':mi 


MRS.    VAIILEY, 


35 


in  the  human  lieart  is  worth  a  thouglit  or  two !     By  a 
loving  look,  we  do  not  mean  a  look  of  love  bestowed  on 
a  beloved  object.     That  is  common  enough,  and  thank- 
ful should  we  be  that  it  is  so  common  in  a  world  that's 
overfull  of  hatred.     Still  less  do  we  mean  that  smile 
and  look  of  intense  affection  with  which  some  people  — 
good  people  too  —  greet  friend  and  foe  alike,  and  by 
which  effort,  to  work  out  their  beau  ideal  of  the  expres- 
sion of  Christian  love,  they  do  signally  damage  their 
cause,  by  saddening  the  serious  and  repelling  the  gay. 
Much  less  do  we  mean  that  perpetual  smile  of  good  will 
which  argues  more  of  personal  comfort  and  self-love 
than  any  thing  else.     No,  the  loving  look  we  speak  of 
I  is  as  often  grave  as  gay.     Its  character  depends  very 
imuch  on  the  face  through  which  it  beams.     And  it 
[cannot    be   counterfeited.     Its    ring  defies    imitation. 
[Like  the  clouded  sun  of  April,  it  can  pierce  through 
tears  of  sorrow ;  like  the  noontide  sun  of  summer  it 
lean  blaze  in  warm  smiles ;  like  the  northern  lights  of 
[winter,  it  can  gleam  in  depths  of  woe  —  but  it  is  always 
[the  same,  modified,  doubtless,  and  rendered  more  or 
less  patent  to  others,  according  to  the  natural  amia- 

)ility  of  him  or  her  who  bestows  it.  No  one  can  put 
ft  on.     Still  less  can  any  one  put  it  off.     Its  range  is 

miversal ;  it  embraces  all  mankind,  though,  of  course, 
\t  is  intensified  on  a  few  favored  objects ;  its  seat  is  in 
ihe  depths  of  a  renewed  heart,  and  its  foundation  lies 
In  love  to  God. 


I 


86 


THE   widow's   cottage. 


J 


!• 


I  ! 


Young  Varley's  mother  lived  in  a  cottage  which  was 
of  the  smallest  possible  dimensions  consistent  with 
comfort.  It  was  made  of  logs,  as,  indeed,  were  all  the 
other  cottages  in  the  valley.  The  door  was  in  the 
centre,  and  a  passage  from  it  to  the  back  of  the  dwell- 
ing divided  it  into  two  rooms.  One  of  these  was  sub- 
divided by  a  thin  partition,  the  inner  room  being  Mrs. 
Varley's  bed-room,  the  outer  Dick's.  Daniel  Hood's 
dormitory  was  a  corner  of  the  kitchen,  which  apartment 
served  also  as  a  parlor. 

Th3  rooms  were  lighted  by  two  windows,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  door,  which  gave  to  the  house  the  ap- 
pearance of  having  a  nose  and  two  eyes.  Houses  of 
this  kind  have  literally  got  a  sort  of  expression  on  —  if 
we  may  use  the  word  —  their  countenances.  Square 
'vindows  give  the  appearance  of  easy-going  placidity ; 
longish  ones,  that  of  surprise.  Mrs.  Varley's  was  a 
surprised  cottage,  and  this  was  in  keeping  with  the 
scene  in  which  it  stood,  for  the  clear  lake  in  front, 
studded  with  islands,  and  the  distant  hills  beyond,  com- 
posed a  scene  so  surprisingly  beautiful  that  it  nt .  ^r 
failed  to  call  forth  an  expression  of  astonished  admira- 
tion from  every  new  visitor  to  the  Mustang  Valley. 

"  My  boy,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Varley,  as  her  son  entered 
the  cottage  with  a  bound,  "why  so  hurried  to-day? 
Deary  me !  where  got  you  the  grand  gun  ?  " 

"  Won  it,  mother ! " 


THE   WIDOW  AND   SON. 


37 


"Wonit,  my  son?" 

"Ay,  won  it,  mother.  Druve  the  nail  almost,  and 
would  ha'  druve  it  altogether  had  I  bin  more  used  to 
Joe  Blunt'3  rifle." 

Mrs.  Varley's  heart  beat  high,  and  her  face  flushed 
with  pride  as  she  gazed  at  her  son,  who  laid  the  rifle  on 
the  table  for  her  inspection,  while  be  rattled  off  an 
animated  and  somewhat  disjointed  account  of  the 
match. 

"  Deary  me !  now  that  was  good ;  that  was  cliver. 
But  what's  that  scraping  at  the  door  ?  " 

"  Oh !  that's  Fan ;  I  forgot  her.  Here !  here !  Fan  I 
Come  in,  good  dog,"  he  cried,  rising  and  opening  the 
door. 

Fan  entered  and  stopped  short,  evidently  uncomfort- 
L  able. 

"  My  boy,  what  do  ye  with  the  major's  dog  ?  " 

"  Won  her  too,  mother ! " 

"  Won  her,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Ay,  won  her,  and  the  pup  too ;  see,  here  it  is  I " 
I  and  he  plucked  Crusoe  from  his  bosom. 

Crusoe  having  found  his  position  to  be  one  of  great 

j comfort,  had  fallen  into  a  profound  slumber,  and  on 

[being  thus  unceremoniously  awakened,  he  gave  forth  a 

yelp  of  discontent  that  brought  Fan  in  a  state  of  frantic 

sympathy  to  his  side. 


i 


m 


98 


THE   WIDOW  AND    SON. 


"  There  you  are,  Fan,  take  it  to  a  corner  and  make 
yourself  at  home.  Ay,  that's  right,  mother,  give  her 
somethin'  to  eat ;  she's  hungry,  I  know  by  the  look  o* 
her  eye." 

"  Deary  me,  Dick,"  said  Mrs.  Varley,  who  now  pro- 
ceeded to  spread  the  youth's  mid-day  meal  before  him, 
"  did  ye  drive  the  nail  three  times  ?  " 

"  No,  only  once,  and  that  not  parfetly.  Brought  'em 
all  down  at  one  shot  —  rifle,  Fan,  an'  pup  ! " 

"  Well,  well,  now  that  was  cliver ;  but  — "  Here 
the  old  woman  paused  and  looked  grave. 

"  But  what,  mother  ? " 

"  You'll  be  wantin'  to  go  off  to  the  mountains  now, 
I  fear  me,  boy." 

"  Wantin'  now ! "  exclaimed  the  youth  earnestly ; 
"I'm  always  wantin'.  I've  bin  wantin'  ever  since  I 
could  walk ;  but  I  won't  go  till  you  let  me,  mother,  that 
I  won't!"  And  he  struck  the  table  with  his  fist  so 
forcibly  that  the  platters  rung  again. 

"  You're  a  good  boy,  Dick  ;  but  you're  ^oo  young  yit 
to  ventur'  among  the  red-skins." 

"  Ah'  yit,  if  I  don't  ventur*  young,  I'd  better  not  ven- 
tur' at  all.  You  know,  mother  dear,  I  don't  want  to 
leave  you ;  but  I  was  bom  to  be  a  hunter,  and  every- 
body in  them  parts  is  a  hunter,  and  I  can't  hunt  in  the 
kitchen  you  know,  mother  I " 


THE   TRAPPERS. 


89 


untains  now, 


At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a 
sound  that  caused  young  Varley  to  spring  up  and  seize 
his  rifle,  and  Fan  to  show  her  teeth  and  growl. 

"Hist!  mother;  that's  like  horses'  hoofs,"  he  whis- 
pered, opening  the  door  and  gazing  intently  in  the 
direction  whence  the  sound  came. 

Louder  and  louder  it  came,  until  an  opening  in  the 
forest  showed  the  advancing  cavalcade  to  be  a  party 
of  white  men.  In  another  moment  they  were  in  full 
view  —  a  band  of  about  thirty  horsemen,  clad  in  the 
leathern  costume,  and  armed  with  the  long  rifle  of  the 
far  west.  Some  wore  portions  of  the  gaudy  Indian 
dress  which  gave  to  them  a  brilliant,  dashing  look. 
They  came  on  straight  for  the  block-house,  and  saluted 
the  Varleys  with  a  jovial  cheer  as  they  swept  past  at 
full  speed.  Dick  returned  the  cheer  with  compound 
interest,  and  calling  out,  "  They're  trappers,  mother,  I'll 
be  back  in  an  hour,"  bounded  off  like  a  deer  through 
the  woods,  taking  u  short  cut  in  order  to  reach  the  block- 
house before  then  He  succeeded,  for,  just  as  he  ar- 
rived at  the  house,  the  cavalcade  wheeled  round  the 
bend  in  the  river,  dashed  up  the  slope,  and  came  to  a 
sudden  halt  on  the  green.  Vaulting  from  their  foaming 
steeds  they  tied  them  to  the  stockades  of  the  little  for- 
tress, which  they  entered  in  a  body. 

Hot  haste  was  in  every  motion  of  these  men.  They 
were  trappers,  they  said,  on  their  way  to  the  rocky 


I 


1 


m 


-iii% 


40 


THE  TRAPPEBS. 


mountains  to  hunt  and  trade  furs.  But  one  of  their 
number  had  been  treacherously  murdered  and  scalped 
by  a  Pawnee  chief,  and  they  resolved  to  revenge  his 
death  by  an  attack  on  one  of  the  Pawnee  villages. 
They  would  teach  these  "  red  reptiles  "  to  respect  white 
men,  they  would,  come  of  it  what  might ;  and  they  had 
turned  aside  here  to  procure  an  additional  supply  of 
powder  and  lead. 

In  vain  did  the  major  endeavor  to  dissuade  these 
reckless  men  from  their  purpose.  They  scoffed  at  the 
idea  of  returning  good  for  evil,  and  insisted  on  being 
supplied.  The  log  hut  was  a  store  as  well  as  a  place 
of  defence,  and  as  they  offered  to  pay  for  it  there  was 
no  refusing  their  request — at  least  so  the  major  thought. 
The  ammunition  was  therefore  given  to  them,  and  in 
half  an  hour  they  were  away  again  at  full  gallop  over 
the  plains  on  their  mission  of  vengeance.  "  Vengeance 
is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord."  But  these  men 
knew  not  what  God  said,  because  they  never  read  his 
word,  and  did  not  own  his  sway. 

Young  Varley's  enthusiasm  was  considerably  damped 
when  he  learned  the  errand  on  which  the  trappers  were 
bent.  From  that  tiino  forward  he  gave  up  all  desire  to 
visit  the  mountains  in  company  with  such  men,  but  he 
still  retained  an  intense  longing  to  roam  at  large  among 
their  rocky  fastnesses,  and  gallop  out  upon  the  wide 
prairies. 


4 


CRUSOE  S    EDUCATION. 


41 


le  olF  their 
and  scalped 
■evenge  his 
36  villages, 
ispect  white 
id  they  had 
I  supply  of 

suade  these 
joffed  at  the 
d  on  being 

as  a  place 
it  there  was 
ijor  thought, 
lem,  and  in 

gallop  over 
'  Vengeance 
these  men 

er  read  hia 

)ly  damped 
ippers  were 
all  desire  to 
men,  but  he 
arge  among 
n  the  wide 


Meanwhile  he  dutifully  tended  his  mother's  cattle  and 
sheep,  and  contented  himself  with  an  occasional  deer 
hunt  in  the  neighboring  forests.  He  devoted  himself 
also  to  the  training  of  his  dog  Crusoe  —  an  operation 
which  at  first  cost  him  many  a  deep  sigh. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  sagacity  and  almost  rea- 
soning capabilities  of  the  Newfoundland  dog.  Indeed, 
some  have  even  gone  the  length  of  saying  that  what  is 
called  instinct  in  these  animals  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  reason.  And,  in  truth,  many  of  the  noble,  heroic, 
and  sagacious  deeds  that  have  actually  been  performed 
by  Newfoundland  dogs  incline  us  almost  to  believe  that, 
like  man,  they  are  gifted  with  reasoning  powers. 

But  every  one  does  not  know  the  trouble  and  pa- 
tience that  is  required  in  order  to  get  a  juvenile  dog  to 
understand  what  its  master  means  when  he  is  endeavor- 
ing to  instruct  it. 

Crusoe's  first  lessOi  was  an  interesting,  but  not  a 
very  successful  one.  We  may  remark  here  that  Dick 
Varley  had  presented  Fan  to  his  mother  to  be  her 
watch-dog,  resolving  to  devote  all  his  powers  to  the 
training  of  the  pup.  We  may  also  remark,  in  reference 
to  Crusoe's  appearance  (and  we  did  not  remark  it 
sooner,  chiefly  because  up  to  this  period  in  his  eventful 
history  he  was  little  better  than  a  ball  of  fat  and  hair), 
that  his  coat  was  mingled  jet  black  and  pure  white,  and 
remarkably  glossy,  curly,  and  thick. 


4Sf 


Crusoe's  education. 


A  week  after  the  shooting  match,  Crusoe's  education 
began.  Having  fed  him  for  that  period  with  his  own 
hand,  in  order  to  gain  his  affection,  Dick  took  him  out 
one  sunny  forenoon  to  the  margin  of  the  lake,  to  give 
him  his  first  lesson. 

And  here  again  we  must  pause  to  remark  that,  al- 
though a  dog's  heart  is  generally  gained  in  the  first 
instance  through  his  mouth,  yet,  after  it  is  thoroughly 
gained,  his  affection  is  noble  and  disinterested.  He 
can  scarcely  be  driven  from  his  master's  side  by  blows, 
and  even  when  thus  harshly  repelled  is  always  ready, 
on  the  shortest  notice  and  with  the  slightest  encourage- 
ment, to  make  it  up  again. 

Well,  Dick  Varley  began  by  calling  out  "  Crusoe  I 
Crusoe !  come  here,  pup." 

Of  course  Crusoe  knew  his  name  by  this  time,  for  it 
had  been  so  often  used  as  a  prelude  to  his  meals,  that 
he  naturally  expected  a  feed  whenever  he  heard  it. 
This  portal  to  his  brain  had  already  been  open  for 
some  days;  but  all  the  other  doors  were  fast  locked, 
and  it  required  a  great  deal  of  careful  picking  to  open 

t^iUill. 

"  Now,  Crusoe,  come  here." 

Crusoe  bounded  clumsily  to  his  master's  side,  cocked 
his  ears,  and  wagged  his  tail  —  so  far  his  education  was 
perfect.  We  say  he  bounded  clumsily,  for  it  must  be 
remembered  that  he  was  still  a  very  young  pup,  with 
soft,  flabby  muscles. 


I 


Mi 


% 


Crusoe's  education. 


Ill 


education 
1  his  own 
k  him  out 
ce,  to  give 

k  that,  al- 
1  the  first 
thoroughly 
sted.  He 
!  by  blows, 
ays  ready, 
encourage- 

«  Crusoe  I 

time,  for  it 
meals,  that 
heard  it. 
1  open  for 
ast  locked, 
ng  to  open 


de,  cocked 
ication  was 
it  must  be 
;  pup,  with 


"  Now,  I'm  goin*  to  begin'  yer  edication,  pup ;  think 
o'  that." 

Whether  Crusoe  thought  of  that  or  not  we  cannot 
say,  but  he  looked  up  in  his  master's  face  as  he  spoke, 
cocked  his  ears  very  high,  and  turned  his  head  slowly 
to  one  side,  until  it  could  not  turn  any  further  in  that 
direction ;  then  he  turned  it  as  much  to  the  other  side, 
whereat  his  master  burst  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of 
laughter,  and  Crusoe  immediately  began  barking  vocif- 
erously. 

"Come,  come,"  said  Dick,  suddenly  checking  his 
mirth,  "  we  mustn't  play,  pup,  we  must  work." 

Drawing  a  leathern  mitten  from  his  belt,  the  youth 
held  it  to  Crusoe's  nose,  and  then  threw  it  a  yard  away, 
at  the  same  time  exclaiming  in  a  loud,  distinct  tone, 
'' Fetch  iL" 

Crusoe  entered  at  once  into  the  spirit  of  this  part  of 
his  training ;  he  dashed  gleefully  at  the  mitten,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  worry  it  with  intense  gratification.  As  for 
" Fetch  it"  he  neither  understood  the  words  nor  cared  a 
straw  about  them. 

Dick  Varley  rose  immediately,  and  rescuing  the  mit- 
ten, resumed  his  seat  on  a  rock. 

"  Come  here,  Crusoe,"  he  repeated. 

"Oh!  certainly,  by  all  means,"  said  Crusoe  —  no  I 
he  didn't  exactly  say  it,  but  really  he  looked  these  words 
BO  evidently,  that  we  think  it  right  to  let  them  stand  as 


w 


44 


Crusoe's  education. 


i ; 


they  are  written.  If  he  could  have  finished  the  sen- 
tence, he  would  certainly  have  said,  "  Go  on  with  that 
game  over  again,  old  boy ;  it's  quite  to  my  taste  —  the 
joUiest  thing  in  life,  I  assure  you ! "  At  least,  if  we 
may  not  positively  assert  that  he  would  have  said  that, 
no  one  else  can  absolutely  affirm  that  he  wouldn't. 

Well,  Dick  Varley  did  do  it  over  again,  and  Crusoe 
worried  the  mitten  over  again  —  utterly  regardless  of 
"Fetch  it." 

Then  they  did  it  again,  and  again,  and  again,  but 
without  the  slightest  apparent  advancement  in  the  path 
of  canine  knowledge,  —  and  then  they  went  home. 

During  all  this  trying  operation,  Dick  Varley  never 
once  betrayed  the  slightest  feeling  of  irritability  or  im- 
patience. He  did  not  expect  success  at  first ;  he  was 
not,  therefore,  disappointed  at  failure. 

Next  day  he  had  him  out  again  —  and  the  next— 
and  the  next  —  and  the  next  again,  with  the  like  unfa- 
vorable result.  In  short,  it  seemed  at  last  as  if  Cru- 
soe's mind  had  been  deeply  imbued  with  the  idea  that 
he  had  been  born  expressly  for  the  purpose  of  worry- 
ing that  mitten,  and  he  meant  to  fulfil  his  destiny  to  the 
letter. 

Young  Varley  had  taken  several  small  pieces  of  meat 
in  his  pocket  each  day,  with  the  intention  of  rewarding 
Crusoe  when  he  should  at  length  be  prevailed  on  to 
fetch  the  mitten,  but  as  Crusoe  was  not  aware  of  the 


Crusoe's  education. 


45 


the  sen- 
with  that 
ste  —  the 
Eist,  if  we 
said  that, 
n't. 

id  Crusoe 
irdless  of 

gain,  but 
I  the  path 
me. 

ley  never 

ty  or  im- 

;  he  was 

J  next  — 
ike  unfa- 
3  if  Cru- 
idca  that 
f  worry- 
ay  to  the 

J  of  meat 
warding 
ed  on  to 
e  of  the 


treat  that  awaited  him,  of  course  the  mitten  never  was 
"fetched." 

At  last  Dick  Varley  saw  that  this  system  would 
never  do,  so  he  changed  his  tactics,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing gave  Crusoe  no  breakfast,  but  took  him  out  at  the 
usual  hour  to  go  through  his  lesson.  This  new  course 
of  conduct  seemed  to  perplex  Crusoe  not  a  little,  for  on 
his  way  down  to  the  beach  he  paused  frequently  and 
looked  back  at  the  cottage,  and  then  expressively  up  at 
his  master's  face.  But  the  master  was  inexorable ;  he 
went  on  and  Crusoe  followed,  for  it'ue  love  had  now 
taken  possession  of  the  pup's  young  heart,  and  he  pre- 
ferred his  master's  company  to  food. 

Varley  now  began  by  letting  the  learner  smell  a 
piece  of  meat  which  he  eagerly  sought  to  devour,  but 
was  prevented,  to  his  immense  disgust.  Then  the  mit- 
ten was  thro^vn  as  heretofore,  and  Crusoe  made  a  few 
steps  towards  it,  but  being  in  no  mood  for  play  he  turned 
back. 

"  Fetch  it,"  said  the  teacher. 

"  I  won't,"  replied  the  learner  mutely,  by  means  of 
that  expressive  sign  —  not  doing  it. 

Hereupon  Dick  Varley  rose,  took  up  the  mitten,  and 
put  it  into  the  pup's  mouth.  Then,  retiring  a  couple  of 
yards,  he  held  out  the  piece  of  meat  and  said,  "  Fetch 
it," 


I 


4& 


Crusoe's  education. 


, 

li 

1 

i 
i 

1 

1 

:               (It- 

(• 

t 

r 

'1 

. 

"       H 

il 

!           M 

bcM 

Crusoe  instantly  spat  out  the  glove  and  bounded  to- 
wards the  meat  —  once  more  to  be  disappointed. 

This  was  done  a  second  time,  and  Crusoe  came  for- 
ward with  the  mitten  in  his  mouth.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
had  been  done  accidentally,  for  he  dropped  it  before  com- 
ing quite  up.  If  so  it  was  a  fortunate  accident,  for  it 
served  as  the  tiny  fulcrum  on  which  to  place  the  point 
of  that  mighty  lever  which  was  destined  ere  long  to  raise 
him  to  the  pinnacle  of  canine  erudition.  Dick  Varley 
immediately  lavished  upon  him  the  tenderest  caresses 
and  gave  him  a  lump  of  meat.  But  he  quickly  tried  it 
again  lest  he  should  lose  the  lesson.  The  dog  evidently 
felt  that  if  he  did  not  fetch  that  mitten  he  should  have 
no  meat  or  caresses.  In  order,  however,  to  make  sure 
that  there  was  no  mistake,  Dick  laid  the  mitten  down 
beside  the  pup,  instead  of  putting  it  into  his  mouth,  and, 
retiring  a  few  paces,  cried,  "  Fetch  it." 

Crusoe  looked  uncertain  for  a  moment,  then  he 
picked  up  the  mitten  and  laid  it  at  his  master's  feet. 
The  lesson  was  learned  at  last !  Dick  Varley  tumbled 
all  the  meat  out  of  his  pocket  on  the  ground,  and,  while 
Crusoe  made  a  hearty  breakfast,  he  sat  down  on  a  rock 
and  whistled  with  glee  at  having  fairly  picked  the  lock, 
and  opened  another  door  into  one  of  the  many  chambers 
of  his  dog's  intellect  I 


OUR  hero's  character. 


47 


inded  to- 
d. 

came  for- 
d  as  if  it 
fore  com- 
!nt,  for  it 
the  point 
g  to  raise 
;k  Varley 
;  caresses 
ly  tried  it 
evidently 
3uld  have 
aake  sure 
tten  down 
outh,  and, 

then  he 
er's  feet. 

tumbled 
ind,  while 
on  a  rock 

the  lock, 
chambers 


m 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Our  Hero  enlarged  upon.  —  Grunips. 

Two  years  passed  away  —  the  Mustang  Valley  set- 
tlement advanced  prosperously,  despite  one  or  two  at- 
tacks made  upon  it  by  the  savages  who  were,  however, 
firmly  repelled ;  Dick  Varley  had  now  become  a  man, 
and  his  pup  Crusoe  had  become  a  full-grown  dog.  The 
"  Silver  rifle,"  as  Dick's  weapon  had  come  to  be  named, 
was  well  known  among  the  hunters  and  the  red-skins  of 
the  border-lands,  and  in  Dick's  hands  its  bullets  were  as 
deadly  as  its  owner's  eye  was  quick  and  true. 

Crusoe's  education,  too,  had  been  completed.  Faith- 
fully and  patiently  had  his  young  master  trained  his 
mind,  until  he  fitted  him  to  be  a  meet  companion  in  the 
hunt.  To  "  carry  "  and  "  fetch  "  were  now  but  trifling 
portions  of  the  dog's  accomplishments.  He  could  dive 
a  fathom  deep  in  the  lake  and  bring  up  any  article  that 
might  have  been  dropt  or  thrown  in.  His  swimming 
powers  were  marvellous,  and  so  powerful  were  his 
muscles,  that  he  seemed  to  spurn  the  water  while  pass- 
ing through  it,  with  his  broad  chest  high  out  of  the 
curling  wave,  at  a  speed  that  neither  man  nor  beast 


48 


otm  hero's  character. 


could  keep  up  for  a  moment.  His  intellect  now 
was  sharp  and  quick  as  a  needle ;  he  never  required  a 
second  bidding.  When  Dick  went  out  hunting  he 
used  frequently  to  drop  a  mitten  or  a  powder  horr 
known  to  the  dog,  and,  after  walking  miles  away  k  ^m 
it,  would  stop  short  ard  look  down  into  the  mild,  gentle 
face  of  his  companion. 

"  Crusoe,"  he  said,  in  the  same  quiet  tones  with  which 
he  would  have  addressed  a  human  friend,  "  I've  dropp'^'' 
my  mitten,  go  fetch  *t,  pup."  Dick  continued  to  call  it 
"  pup  "  from  habit. 

One  glance  of  intelligence  passed  from  Crusoe's  eye, 
and  in  a  moment  he  was  away  at  full  gallop ;  nor  did 
he  rest  until  the  lost  article  was  lying  at  his  mr  's 
feet.  Dick  was  loath  to  try  how  far  back  on  his  ..  ; 
Crusoe  would  run  if  desired.  He  had  often  gone  back 
five  or  six  miles  at  a  stretch ;  but  his  powers  did  not 
stop  here.  He  could  carry  articles  back  to  the  spot 
from  which  they  had  been  taken  and  leave  them  there. 
He  could  head  the  game  that  his  master  was  pursuing 
and  turn  it  back ;  and  he  would  guard  any  object  he 
was  desired  to  "  watch "  with  unflinching  constancy. 
But  it  would  occupy  too  much  space  and  time  to  enu- 
merate all  Crusoe's  qualities  and  powers  His  biogra- 
phy will  unfold  them. 

In  personal  appearance  he  was  majestic,  having 
grown  to  an  immense  size  even  for  a  Newfoundland. 


ouB  hero's  character. 


49 


lect    now 
:equired  a 
jnting   he 
hora 

iway  li-^in 
lild,  gentle 

with  which 
/e  dropp'''' 
i  to  call  it 

usee's  eye, 
p;  nor  did 
is  mf       's 
fi  his  ..      1^ 
gone  back 
TS  did  not 
o  the  spot 
;hem  there. 
s  pursuing 
■/  object  he 
constancy, 
me  to  enu- 
iis  biogra- 

tic,  having 
foundlaud. 


Had  his  visage  been  at  all  wolfish  in  character,  his 
aspect  would  have  been  terrible.  But  he  possessed  in 
an  eminent  degree  that  mild,  humble  expression  of  face 
peculiar  to  his  race.  When  roused  or  excited,  and 
especially  when  bounding  through  the  forest  with  the 
chase  in  view,  he  was  absolutely  magnificent.  At  other 
times  his  gait  was  slow,  and  he  seemed  to  prefer  a  quiet 
walk  with  Dick  Varley  to  any  thing  else  under  the  sun. 
But  when  Dick  was  inclined  to  be  boisterous,  Crusoe's 
tail  and  ears  rose  at  a  moment's  notice,  and  he  was 
ready  for  ani/  thing.  Moreover,  he  obeyed  commands 
instantly  and  implicitly.  In  this  respect  he  put  to 
shame  most  of  the  boi/s  of  the  settlement,  who  were 
by  no  means  famed  for  their  habits  oi  prompt  obedi- 
ence. 

Crusoe's  eye  was  constantly  v  ^ching  tiie  face  of  his 
master.  When  Dick  said  "  Go,"  he  went,  when  he  said 
"  Come,"  he  came.  If  he  had  been  in  the  midst  of  an 
excited  bound  at  the  throat  of  a  stag,  and  Dick  had 
called  out,  "  D  )wn,  Crusoe,"  he  would  have  sunk  to  the 
earth  like  a  stone.  No  doubt  it  took  many  months  of 
training  to  bring  the  dog  to  this  state  of  perfection; 
but  Dick  accomplished  it  by  patience,  perseverance,  and 
love. 

Besides  all  this,  Crusoe  could  speak !  He  spoke  by 
means  of  the  dog's  dumb  alphabet  in  a  way  that  defies 
description.    He  conversed,  so  to  speak,  with  his  ex- 

5 


^ 

■1^. 

50 


OUR   HERO'a    CHARACTER. 


tremities — his  head  and  his  mil.  But  his  eyes,  his  soft 
brown  eyes,  were  the  chief  medium  of  communication. 
If  ever  the  language  of  the  eyes  was  carried  to  perfec- 
tion, it  was  exhibited  in  the  person  of  Crusoe.  But, 
indeed,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  which  part  of  his  ex- 
pressive face  expressed  most.  The  cocked  ears  of  ex- 
pectation ;  the  drooped  ears  of  sorrow ;  the  bright,  full 
eye  of  joy ;  the  half-closed  eye  of  contentment ;  and  the 
frowning  eye  of  indignation,  accompanied  with  a  slight, 
a  very  slight  pucker  of  the  nose,  and  a  gleam  of  daz- 
zling ivory  —  ha !  no  enemy  ever  saw  this  last  piece  of 
canine  language  without  a  full  appreciation  of  what  it 
meant.  Then  as  to  the  tail  —  the  modulations  of  mean- 
ing in  the  varied  wag  of  that  expressive  member !  Oh ! 
it's  useless  to  attempt  description.  Mortal  man  cannot 
conceive  of  the  delicate  shades  of  sentiment  expressible 
by  a  dog's  tail,  unless  he  has  studied  the  subject  —  the 
wag,  the  waggle,  the  cock,  the  droop,  the  slope,  the 
wriggle !  Away  with  description  —  it  is  impotent  and 
valueless  here ! 

As  we  have  said,  Crusoe  was  meek  and  mild.  He 
had  been  bitten,  on  the  sly,  by  half  the  ill-natured  curs 
in  the  settlement,  and  had  only  shown  his  teeth  in  re- 
turn. He  had  no  enmities — though  several  enemies-— 
and  he  had  a  thousand  friends,  particularly  among  the 
ranks  of  the  weak  and  the  persecuted,  whom  he  always 
protected  and  avenged  when  opportunity  offered.    A 


DICK  AND    CRUSOE    CONVERSE. 


51 


33,  his  soft 
lunication. 

to  perfec- 
3oe.  But, 
of  his  ex- 
iars  of  ex- 
bright,  full 
t ;  and  the 
h  a  slight, 
im  of  daz- 
3t  piece  of 
of  what  it 
s  of  mean- 
iber!  Oh! 
Qan  cannot 
expressible 
jject  —  the 

slope,  the 
potent  and 

mild.  He 
itured  curs 
eeth  in  re- 
enemies— 
among  the 
I  he  always 
)ffered.    A 


single  instance  of  this  kind  will  serve  to  show  his  char- 
acter. 

One  day  Dick  and  Crusoe  were  sitting  on  a  rock  be- 
side the  lake — tlie  same  identical  rock  near  which,  when 
a  pup,  the  latter  had  received  his  first  lesson.  They 
were  conversing  as  usual,  for  Dick  had  elicited  such  a 
fund  of  intelligence  from  the  dog's  mind,  and  had  in- 
jected such  wealth  of  wisdom  into  it,  that  he  felt  con- 
vinced it  understood  every  word  he  said. 
,    "  This  is  capital  weather,  Crusoe ;  aint  it,  pup  ?  " 

Crusoe  made  a  motion  with  his  head  which  was 
quite  as  significant  as  a  nod. 

"  Ha !  my  pup,  I  wish  that  you  and  I  might  go  and 
have  a  slap  at  the  grizzly  bars  and  a  look  at  the  Rocky 
Mountains.     Wouldn't  it  be  nuts,  pup  ?  '* 

Crusoe  looked  dubious. 

"  What,  you  don't  agree  with  me !  Now,  tell  me, 
pup,  wouldn't  ye  like  to  grip  a  bar  ?  " 

Still  Crusoe  looked  dubious,  but  made  a  gentle  motion 
with  his  tail,  as  though  he  would  have  said,  "  I've  seen 
neither  Rocky  Mountains  nor  grizzly  bars,  and  know 
nothin'  about  'em,  but  I'm  open  to  conviction." 

"  You're  a  brave  pup,"  rejoined  Dick,  stroking  the 
dog's  huge  head  affectionately.  "  I  wouldn't  give  you 
for  ten  times  your  weight  in  golden  dollars  —  if  there 
be  sich  things." 

Crusoe  made  no  reply  whatever  to  this.    He  regarded 


52 


RETRIBUTIOIT. 


it  as  a  truism  unworthy  of  notice ;  he  evidc^^ly  felt  that 
a  comparison  between  love  and  dollars  was  preposterous. 

At  this  point  in  the  conversation  a  little  dog  with  a 
lame  leg  hobbled  to  the  edge  of  the  rocks  in  front  of 
the  spot  where  Dick  was  seated,  and  looked  down  into 
the  water,  which  was  deep  there.  Whether  it  did  so 
for  the  purpose  of  admiring  its  very  plain  visage  in  the 
liquid  mirror,  or  finding  out  what  was  going  on  among 
the  fish,  we  cannot  say,  as  it  never  told  us  ;  but  at  that 
moment  a  big,  clumsy,  savage-looking  dog  rushed  out 
from  the  neighboring  thicket  and  began  to  worry  it. 

"  Punish  him,  Crusoe,"  said  Dick,  quickly. 

Crusoe  made  one  bound  that  a  lion  might  have  been 
proud  of,  and  seizing  the  aggressor  by  the  back,  lifted 
him  ofi*  his  legs  and  held  him,  howling,  in  the  air  —  at 
the  same  time  casting  a  look  towards  his  master  for 
further  instructions. 

"  Pitch  him  in,"  said  Dick,  making  a  sign  with  his 
hand. 

Crusoe  turned  and  quietly  dropped  the  dog  into  the 
lake.  Having  regarded  his  struggles  there  for  a  few 
moments  with  grave  severity  of  countenance,  he  walked 
slowly  back  and  sat  doAvn  beside  his  master. 

The  little  dog  made  good  its  retreat  as  fast  as  three 
legs  would  carry  it,-  and  the  surly  dog,  having  swam 
ashore,  retired  sulkily,  with  his  tail  very  much  between 
his  legs. 


i 


GRUMP8. 


58 


Little  wonder,  then,  that  Crusoe  was  beloved  by 
great  and  small  among  the  well-disposed  of  the  canine 
tribes  of  the  Mustang  Valley. 

But  Crusoe  was  not  a  mere  machine.  When  not 
actively  engaged  in  Dick  Varley's  service,  he  busied 
himself  with  private  little  matters  of  his  own.  He 
undertook  modest  little  excursions  into  the  woods  or 
along  the  margin  of  the  lake,  sometimes  alone,  but 
more  frequently  with  a  little  friend  whose  whole  heart 
and  being  seemed  to  be  swallowed  up  in  admiration  of 
his  big  companion.  Whether  Crusoe  botanized  or 
geologized  on  these  excursions  we  will  not  venture  to 
say.  Assuredly  he  seemed  as  though  he  did  both,  for 
he  poked  his  nose  into  every  bush  and  tuft  of  moss, 
and  turned  over  the  stones,  and  dug  holes  in  the  ground 
—  and,  in  short,  if  he  did  not  understand  these  sciences, 
he  behaved  very  much  as  if  he  did.  Certainly  he 
knew  as  much  about  them  as  many  of  the  human 
species  do. 

In  these  walks  he  never  took  the'slightest  notice  of 
Grumps  (that  was  the  little  dog's  name),  but  Grumps 
made  up  for  this  by  taking  excessive  notice  of  him. 
When  Crusoe  stopped,  Grumps  stopped  and  sat  down 
to  look  at  him.  When  Crusoe  trotted  on,  Grumps 
trotted  on  too.  When  Crusoe  examined  a  bush  Grumps 
sat  down  to  watch  him,  and  when  he  dug  a  hole 
Grumps  looked  into  it  to  see  what  was  there.     Grumps 

6  * 


H/l 


T 


54 


GBUMPS. 


never  helped  him ;  his  sole  delight  was  in  looking  on. 
They  didn't  converse  much,  these  two  dogs.  To  be  in 
each  other's  company  seemed  to  be  happiness  enough  — 
at  least  Grumps  thought  so. 

There  was  one  point  at  which  Grumps  stopped  short, 
however,  ind  ceased  to  follow  his  friend  ;  and  that  was 
when  he  rushed  headlong  into  the  lake  and  disported 
himself  for  an  hour  at  a  time  in  its  cool  waters.  Crusoe 
was,  both  by  nature  and  training,  a  splendid  water-dog. 
Grumps,  on  the  contrary,  held  water  in  abhorrence,  so 
he  sat  on  the  shores  of  the  lake  disconsolate  when  his 
friend  was  bathing,  and  waited  till  he  came  out.  The 
only  time  when  Grumps  was  thoroughly  non-plussed, 
was  when  Dick  Varley's  whistle  sounded  faintly  in  the 
far  distance.  Then  Crusoe  would  prick  up  his  ears, 
and  stretch  out  at  full  gallop,  clearing  ditch,  and  fence, 
and  brake  with  his  strong  elastic  bound,  and  leaving 
Grumps  to  patter  after  him  as  fast  as  his  four-inch  legs 
would  carry  him.  Poor  Grumps  usually  arrived  at  the 
village  to  find  both  dog  and  master  gone,  and  would 
betake  himself  to  his  own  dwelling,  there  to  lie  down 
and  sleep,  and  dream,  perchance,  of  rambles  and  gam- 
bols with  his  gigantic  friend. 


.ii. 


f 


THE   MISSION. 


55 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  Mission  of  Peace.  —  Unexpected  Joys. — Dick  and  Crusoe  set  off 
for  the  Land  of  the  Red-skins,  and  meet  with  Adventures  by  the 
way  as  a  matter  of  course.  —  Night  in  the  Wild  Woods. 

One  day  the  inhabitants  of  Mustang  Valley  were 
thrown  into  considerable  excitement  by  the  arrival  of 
an  officer  of  the  United  States  army  and  a  small  escort 
of  cavalry.  They  went  direct  to  the  biock-house,  which, 
since  Major  Hope's  departure,  had  become  the  residence 
of  Joe  Blunt  —  that  worthy  having,  by  general  consent, 
been  deemed  the  fittest  man  in  the  settlement  to  fill  the 
major's  place. 

Soon  it  began  to  be  noised  abroad  that  the  strangers 
had  been  sent  by  government  to  endeavor  to  bring 
about,  if  possible,  a  more  friendly  state  of  feeling  be- 
tween the  whites  and  the  Indians,  by  means  of  presents, 
and  promises,  and  fair  speeches. 

The  party  remained  all  night  in  the  block-house,  and 
ere  long  it  was  reported  that  Joe  Blunt  had  been  re- 
quested, and  had  consented,  to  be  the  leader  and  chief 
of  a  party  of  three  men  who  should  visit  the  neighbor- 
ing tribes  of  Indians  to  the  west  and  north  of  the  val- 


? 


¥ 


k 


56 


VISIT    OP  JOE   BLUNT. 


ley,  as  government  agents.  Joe's  knowledge  of  two  or 
three  different  Indian  dialects,  and  his  well-known  sa- 
gacity, rendered  him  a  most  fitting  messenger  on  such 
an  errand.  It  was  also  whispered  that  Joe  was  to  have 
the  choosing  of  his  comrades  in  this  mission,  and  many 
were  the  opinions  expressed  and  guesses  made  as  to 
who  would  be  chosen. 

That  same  evening  Dick  Varley  was  sitting  in  his 
mother's  kitchen  cleaning  his  rifle ;  his  mother  was 
preparing  supper  and  talking  quietly  about  the  obsti- 
nacy of  a  particular  hen  that  had  taken  to  laying  her 
eggs  in  places  where  they  could  not  be  found;  Fan 
was  coiled  up  in  a  corner  sound  asleep,  and  Crusoe  was 
sitting  at  one  side  of  the  fire  looking  on  at  thmgs  in 
general. 

"I  wonder,"  remarked  Mrs.  Varley,  as  she  spread 
the  table  with  a  pure  white  napkin,  "I  wonder  what 
the  sodgers  are  doin'  wi'  Joe  Blunt." 

As  often  happens  when  an  individual  is  mentioned, 
the  worthy  referred  to  opened  the  door  at  that  moment 
and  stepped  into  the  room. 

"  Good  e'en  t'ye,  dame,"  said  the  stout  hunter,  doffing 
his  cap,  and  resting  his  rifle  in  a  comer,  while  Dick 
rose  and  placed  a  chair  for  him. 

"The  same  to  you.  Master  Blunt,"  answered  the 
widow;  "you've  iist  comed  in  good  time  for  a  cut  o* 
venison.'* 


AN   UNEXPECTED   PROPOSAL. 


57 


"  Thanks,  mistress,  I  s'pose  we're  beholden  to  the  sil- 
ver rifle  for  that." 

"  To  the  hand  that  aimed  it,  rather,"  suggested  the 
widow. 

"  Nay,  then,  say  raither  to  the  dog  that  turned  it," 
said  Dick  Varley.  "  But  for  Crusoe  that  buck  would 
ha'  bin  couched  in  the  woods  this  night." 

"  Oh  I  if  it  comes  to  that,"  retorted  Joe,  "  I'd  lay  it 
to  the  door  o'  Fan,  for  if  she'd  niver  bin  born  nother 
would  Crusoe.  But  it's  good  an'  tender  meat,  whativer 
ways  ye  got  it.  Howsiver,  I've  other  things  to  talk 
about  jist  now.  Them  sodgers  that  are  eatin'  buffalo 
tongues  up  at  the  block-house  as  if  they'd  niver  a^e 
meat  before,  and  didn't  hope  to  eat  agin  for  a  twelve- 
month —  " 

"  Ay,  what  o'  them  ?  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Varley ;  "  I've 
bin  wonderin'  what  was  their  errand." 

"  Of  coorse  ye  wos,  dame  Varley ;  and  I've  comed 
here  a'  purpis  to  tell  ye.  They  want  me  to  go  to  the 
red-skins  to  make  peace  between  the.n  and  us;  and 
they've  brought  a  lot  o'  goods  to  make  them  presents 
withal,  —  beads,  an'  knives,  an'  lookin'  glasses,  an'  Ver- 
million paint,  an'  sich  like,  jist  as  much  as'll  be  a  light 
load  for  one  horse  —  for,  ye  see,  nothin'  can  be  done  wi' 
the  red-skins  without  gifts." 

"  'Tis  a  blessed  mission,"  said  the  widow,  "  I  wish  it 
may  succeed.     D'ye  think  ye'll  go  ?  " 


mM 


I 


-S!      I) 


58 


AN  UNEXPECTED   PROPOSAL. 


«Go?  ay,  that  will  I." 

"  I  only  wish  they'd  made  the  offer  to  me,"  said  Dick 
with  a  sigh. 

"  An'  so  they  do  make  the  offer,  lad.  They've  gin 
me  leave  to  choose  the  two  men  I'm  to  take  with  me, 
and  I've  corned  straight  to  ask  you.  Ay  or  no,  for  we 
must  up  an'  away  by  break  o'  day  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Varley  started.  "  So  soon  ?  "  she  said,  with  a 
look  of  anxiety. 

"  Ay ;  the  Pawnees  are  at  the  Yellow  Creek  jist  at 
this  time,  but  I've  heer'd  they're  'bout  to  break  up  camp 
an'  away  west ;  so  we'll  need  to  use  haste." 

"  May  I  go,  mother  ? "  asked  Dick  with  a  look  of 
anxiety. 

There  was  evidently  a  conflict  in  the  widow's  breast, 
but  it  quickly  ceased. 

"  Yes,  my  boy,"  she  said  in  her  own  low,  quiet  voice, 
"  an'  God  go  with  ye.  I  knew  the  time  must  come  soon, 
an'  I  thank  Him  that  your  first  visit  to  the  red-skins 
will  be  on  an  errand  o'  peace.  'Blessed  are  th& 
peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of 
God.'" 

Dick  grasped  his  mother's  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his 
cheek  in  silence.  At  the  same  moment  Crusoe,  seeing 
that  the  deeper  feelings  of  his  master  were  touched,  and 
deeming  it  his  duty  to  sympathize,  rose  up  and  thrust 
his  nose  against  him. 


DICK  AND   HIS   MOTHER. 


59 


seeing 


Ah !  pup,"  cried  the  young  man  hastily,  "  you  must 
go  too.     Of  course  Crusoe  goes,  Joe  Blunt  ?  " 

"  Hum !  I  don't  know  that.  There's  no  dependin'  on 
a  dog  to  keep  his  tongue  quiet  in  times  o'  danger." 

"  Believe  me,"  exclaimed  Dick,  flashing  with  enthu- 
siasm, "  Crusoe's  more  trustworthy  than  I  am  myself. 
If  ye  can  trust  the  master  yer  safe  to  trust  the  pup." 

"  Well,  lad,  ye  may  be  right.     "We'll  take  him." 

"  Thanks,  Joe.     And  who  else  goes  with  us  ?  " 

"I've  bin  castin'  that  in  my  mind  for  some  time, 
an'  I've  fixed  to  take  Henri.  He's  not  the  safest  man 
in  the  valley,  but  he's  the  truest,  that's  a  fact.  And 
now,  younker,  get  your  horse  an'  rifle  ready,  and  come 
to  the  block-house  at  daybreak  to-morrow.  Good  luck 
to  ye,  mistress,  till  we  meet  agin." 

Joe  Blunt  rose,  and  taking  up  his  rifle,  —  without 
which  he  scarcely  ever  moved  a  foot  from  his  own  door, 
—  left  the  cottage  with  rapid  strides. 

"  My  son,"  said  Mrs.  Varley,  kissing  Dick's  cheek  as 
he  resumed  his  seat,  "put  this  in  the  little  pocket  X 
made  for  it  in  your  hunting  shirt." 

She  handed  him  a  small  pocket  Bible. 

"  Dear  mother,"  he  said,  as  he  placed  the  book  care- 
fully within  the  breast  of  his  coat,  "  the  red-skin  that 
takes  that  from  me  must  take  my  scalp  first.  But 
don't  fear  for  me.    You've  often  said  the  Lord  would 


I  i^ 


60 


DICK  AND   HIS   MOTHER. 


protect  me.  So  he  will,  mother,  for  sure  it's  an  errand 
o'  peace ! " 

"  Ay,  that's  it,  that's  it,"  murmured  the  widow  in  a 
half  soliloquy.    . 

Dick  Varley  spent  that  night  in  converse  with  his 
mother,  and  next  morning  at  daybreak  he  was  at  the 
place  of  meeting  mounted  on  his  sturdy  little  horse, 
with  the  "  silver  rifle  "  on  his  shoulder,  and  Crusoe  by 
his  side. 

«  That's  right,  lad,  that's  right.  Nothin'  like  keepin* 
yer  time,"  said  Joe,  as  he  led  out  a  pack-horse  from  the 
gate  of  the  block-house,  while  his  own  charger  was 
held  ready  saddled  by  a  man  named  Daniel  Brand,  who 
had  been  appointed  to  the  charge  of  the  block-house  jn 
his  absence. 

"  Where's  Henri  ?  —  oh  !  here  he  comes,"  exclaimed 
Dick,  as  the  hunter  referred  to  came  thundering  up  the 
slope  at  a  charge,  on  a  horse  that  resembled  its  rider 
in  size,  and  not  a  little  in  clumsiness  of  appearance. 

"Ah!  mes  boy.  Him  is  a  goot  one  to  go,"  cried 
Henri,  remarking  Dick's  smile  as  he  pulled  up.  "  No 
boss  on  de  plain  can  beat  dis  one,  surement." 

"  Now  then,  Henri,  lend  a  hand  to  fix  this  pack,  we've 
no  time  to  palaver." 

By  this  time  they  were  joined  by  several  of  the 
soldiers  and  a  few  hunters  who  had  come  to  see  them 
start. 


THE   PREPARATION. 


61 


•rand 

in  a 

th  his 
at  the 
horse, 
joe  by 

keepin* 
om  the 
;er  was 
nd,  who 
louse  in 

:claimed 
up  the 
its  rider 


nee. 


cried 

«No 


bk,  we've 


Ll  of  the 


Isee 


them 


"Remember,  Joe,"  cried  one,  "if  you  don't  come 
back  in  three  months  we'll  all  come  out  in  a  band  to 
seek  you." 

"  If  we  don't  come  back  in  less  than  that  time,  what's 
left  o'  us  won't  be  worth  seekin'  for,"  said  Joe,  tighten- 
ing tiie  girth  of  his  saddle. 

"  Put  a  bit  in  yer  own  mouth,  Henri,"  cried  another, 
as  the  Canadian  arranged  his  steed's  bridle  j  "  ye'U  need 
it  more  than  yer  horse  when  yc  git  'mong  the  red  rep- 
tiles." 

"  Vraiment,  if  mon  mout'  needs  one  bit  your's  will 
need  one  padlock." 

"  Now,  lads,  mount ! "  cried  Joe  Blunt,  as  he  vaulted 
into  the  saddle. 

Dick  Varley  sprang  lightly  on  his  horse,  and  Henri 
made  a  rush  at  his  steed  and  hurled  his  huge  frame 
across  its  back  with  a  violence  that  ought  to  have 
brought  it  to  'the  ground ;  but  the  tall,  raw-boned,  broad- 
chested  roan  was  accustomed  to  the  eccentricities  of 
its  master,  and  stood  the  shock  bravely.  Being  ap- 
pointed to  lead  the  pack-horse,  Henri  seized  its  halter ; 
then  the  three  cavaUers  shook  their  reins,  and,  waving 
their  hands  to  their  comrades,  they  sprang  into  the 
woods  at  full  gallop,  and  laid  their  course  for  the  "  far 
west." 

For  some  time  they  galloped  side  by  side  in  silence, 
each  occupied  with  his  own  thoughts,  Crusoe  keeping 


I 


62 


OFF   TO   THE  PRAIRIE   AT   LAST. 


I 


close  beside  his  master's  horse.  The  two  elder  hunters 
evidently  ruminated  on  the  object  of  their  mission  and 
the  prospects  of  success,  for  their  countenances  were 
grave  and  their  eyes  cast  on  the  ground.  Dick  Varley, 
too,  thought  upon  the  red-men,  but  his  musings  were 
deeply  tinged  with  the  bright  hues  of  a.  first  adventure. 
The  mountains,  the  plains,  the  Indians,  the  bears,  tha 
buffaloes,  and  a  thousand  other  objects,  danced  wildly 
before  his  mind's  eye,  and  his  blood  careered  through 
his  veins  and  flushed  his  forehead  as  he  thouglit  of 
what  he  should  see  and  do,  and  feh  ihe  elastic  vigor  of 
youth  respond  in  sympathy  to  the  light  spring  of  his 
active  little  steed.  He  was  a  lover  of  nature,  too,  and 
his  flashing  eyes  glanced  observantly  from  side  to  side 
as  they  swept  along,  —  sometimes  through  glades  of 
forest  trees;  sometimes  through  belts  of  more  open 
ground  and  shrubbery ;  anon  by  the  margin  of  a  stream, 
or  along  the  shores  of  a  little  lake,  and  often  over 
short  stretches  of  flowering  prairie-land,  —  while  the 
firm,  elastic  ixxv^  sent  up  a  muffled  sound  from  the  tramp 
of  their  mettlesome  chargers.  It  was  a  scene  of  wild, 
luxuriant  beauty,  that  might  almost  (one  could  fancy), 
have  drawn  involuntary  homage  to  its  bountiful  Crea^ 
from  the  lips  even  of  an  infidel. 

After  a  time  Joe  Blunt  reined  up,  and  t 
at  an  easy  ambling  pace.    Joe  and  h'  nd  H<    .* 

were  so  used  to  these  beautiful  scenes  that  the    had 


f 


THE  FIRST   DAT   IN  THE    WILDS. 


68 


long  ceased  to  be  enthusiastically  affected  by  them, 
though  tliey  never  ceased  to  delight  in  tbem. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Joe,  "  that  them  sodgers  '11  go  their 
ways  soon.  I've  no  notion  o'  them  chaps  when  they're 
left  at  a  place  wi*  nothin'  to  do  but  whittle  sticks." 

"  Why,  Joe !  "  exclaimed  Dick  Varley  in  a  tone  of 
surpriso,  "  I  thought  you  were  adrairin*  the  beautiful 
face  o'  nature  all  this  time,  and  yer  only  thinkin'  about 
the  sodgers.     Now,  that's  strange !  " 

"  Not  so  strange  after  all,  lad,"  answered  Joe.  "  When 
a  man's  used  to  a  thing  he  gits  to  admire  an'  enjoy  it 
without  speakin'  much  about  it.  But  it  is  true,  boy, 
that  mankind  gits  in  coorse  o'  time  to  think  little  o* 
the  blissins'  he's  used  to. 

"Oui,  c'est  vrai!"  murmured  Henri  emphatically. 

"  Well,  Joe  Blunt,  it  may  be  so ;  but  I'm  thankful 
Tm  not  used  to  this  sort  o'  thing  yet,"  exclaimed  Var- 
ley. "  Let's  have  another  gallop  —  so  ho  !  come  along, 
Crusoe ! "  shouted  the  youth,  as  he  shook  his  reins,  and 
flew  over  a  long  stretch  of  prairie  on  which  at  that  mo- 
ment they  entered. 

Joe  smiled  as  he  followed  his  enthusiastic  companion, 
but  after  a  short  run  he  pulled  up. 

"  Hold  on,  youngster,"  he  cried,  "  ye  must  lam  to  do 
as  yer  bid,  lad ;  it's  trouble  enough  to  be  among  wild 
Injuns  and  wild  buffaloes,  as  I  hope  soon  to  be,  without 
bavin'  wild  comrades  to  look  after." 


64 


DICK  IS    OBSTREPEROUS. 


1! 


Dick  laughed  and  reined  in  his  panting  horse.  "  I'll 
be  as  obedient  as  Crusoe,"  he  said,  "and  no  one  can 
beat  him." 

"  Besides,"  continued  Joe,  "  the  horses  won't  travel 
far  if  we  begin  by  runnin'  all  the  wind  out  o*  them." 

"  Wall ! "  exclaimed  Henri,  as  the  led  horse  becams 
restive ;  "  I  think  we  must  give  to  him  de  pack-hoss  for 
to  lead,  eh ! " 

"  Not  a  bad  notion,  Henri.  "We'll  make  that  the 
penalty  of  runnin'  off  again ;  so  look  out.  Master 
Dick." 

"  I'm  down,"  replied  Dick  with  a  modest  air, "  obedient 
as  a  baby,  and  won't  run  off  again  —  till  —  the  next 
time.  By  the  way,  Joe,  how  many  days'  provisions  did 
ye  bring  ?  " 

"  Two.  That's  'nough  to  carry  us  to  the  Great  Prai- 
rie, which  is  three  weeks  distani,  from  this ;  our  own 
good  rifles  must  make  up  the  difference,  and  keep  us 
■when  we  get  there." 

"  And  s'pose  we  neither  find  deer  nor  buffalo,"  sug- 
gested Dick. 

"  I  s'pose  we'll  have  to  starve." 

"  Dat  is  comfur'able  to  tink  upon,"  remarked  Henri. 

"  More  comfortable  to  think  o'  than  to  undergo,"  said 
Dick,  "  but  I  s'pose  there's  httle  chance  o'  that." 

"  Well,  not  much,"  replied  Joe  Blunt,  patting  his 
horse's  neck,  "  but  d'ye  see,  lad,  ye  niver  can  count  for 


AN  ANTELOPE. 


65 


sug- 


sartin  on  any  thin*.  The  deer  and  buffalo  ought  to  be 
thick  in  them  plains  at  this  time  —  and  ivhen  the  buf- 
falo are  thick,  they  covers  the  plains  till  ye  can  hardly 
see  the  end  o'  them ;  but,  ye  see,  sometimes  the  rascally 
red-skins  takes  it  into  their  heads  to  burn  the  prairies, 
and  sometimes  ye  find  the  place  that  should  ha  'bin 
black  wi'  buffalo,  black  as  a  coal  wi'  £re  for  miles  an' 
miles  on  end.  At  other  times  the  red-skins  go  huntin* 
in  'ticular  places,  and  sweeps  them  clean  o'  every  hoof 
that  don't  git  away.  Sometimes,  too,  the  animals  seems 
to  take  a  scunner  at  a  place  and  keeps  out  o'  the  way. 
But  one  way  or  another  men  gin'rally  manage  to  scram- 
ble through." 

"  Look  yonder,  Joe,"  exclaimed  Dick,  pointing  to  the 
summit  of  a  distant  ridge,  where  a  small  black  object 
was  seen  moving  against  the  sky,  "  that's  a  deer,  aint  it?  " 

Joe  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  gazed  earnestly 
at  the  object  in  question.  "Yer  right,  boy;  and  by 
good  luck  we've  got  the  wind  of  him.  Cut  in  an'  take 
your  chance  now.  There's  a  long  strip  o'  wood  as  '11 
let  ye  git  close  to  him." 

Before  the  sentence  was  well  finished,  Dick  and  Cru- 
soe were  off  at  full  gallop.  For  a  few  hundred  yards 
they  coursed  along  the  bottom  of  a  hollow ;  then  turn- 
ing to  the  riglit  they  entered  the  strip  of  wood,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  gained  the  edge  of  it.  Here  Dick  dis- 
mounted. 

6* 


66 


DICK   DODGES   HIM. 


"  You  can't  help  me  here,  Crusoe.  Stay  where  you 
are,  pup,  and  hold  my  horse." 

Crusoe  seized  the  end  of  the  line,  which  was  fastened 
to  the  horse's  nose,  in  his  mouth,  and  lay  down  on  a 
hillock  of  moss,  submissively  placing  his  chin  on  his 
forepaws,  and  watching  his  master  as  he  stepped  noise- 
lessly through  the  wooa.  In  a  few  minutes  Dick 
emerged  from  among  the  trees,  and,  creeping  from  bush 
to  bush,  succeeded  in  getting  to  within  six  hundred 
yards  of  the  deer,  which  was  a  beautiful  little  antelope. 
Beyond  the  bush  behind  which  he  now  crouched  all  was 
bare  open  ground,  without  a  shrub  or  hillock  large 
enough  to  conceal  the  hunter.  There  was  a  slight  undu- 
lation in  the  ground,  however,  which  enabled  him  to 
advance  about  fifty  yards  further,  by  means  of  lying 
down  quite  flat  and  working  himself  forward  like  a  ser- 
pent. Further  than  this  he  could  not  move  without 
being  seen  by  the  antelope,  which  browsed  on  the  ridge 
before  him  in  fancied  security.  The  distance  was  too 
great  even  for  a  long  shot,  but  Dick  knew  of  a  weak  point 
in  this  little  creature's  nature  which  enabled  him  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose— -a  weak  point  which  it  shares  in  com- 
mon with  animals  of  a  higher  order,  —  namely,  curiosity. 

The  little  antelope  of  the  North  American  prairies  is 
intensely  curious  about  every  thing  that  it  does  not  quite 
understand,  and  will  not  rest  satisfied  until  it  has  en- 
deavored to  clear  up  the  mystery.    Avaihng  himself 


CRUSOE   MAKES    HIMSELF   USEFUL. 


67 


of  this  propensity,  Dick  did  what  both  Indians  and 
hunters  are  accustoiied  to  do  on  these  occasions,  —  h€ 
put  a  piece  of  rag  on  the  end  of  his  ramrod,  and,  keep- 
ing his  person  concealed  and  perfectly  still,  waved  this 
miniature  flag  in  the  air.  The  antelope  noticed  it  at 
once,  and,  pricking  up  its  ears,  began  to  advance,  timidly 
and  slowly,  step  by  step,  to  see  what  remarkable  phe- 
nomenon it  could  be.  In  a  few  seconds  the  flag  was 
lowered,  a  sharp  crack  followed,  and  the  antelope  fell 
dead  upon  the  plain. 

"  Ha,  boy !  that's  a  good  supper,  anyhow,"  cried  Joe, 
as  he  galloped  up  and  dismounted. 

"  Goot !  dat  is  better  nor  dried  meat,"  added  Henri. 

"  Give  him  to  me ;  I  will  put  him  on  my  hoss,  vich  is 
strongar  dan  yourn.     But  'ver  is  your  hoss  ?  " 

"He'll  be  here  in  a  minute,"  replied  Dick,  putting 
his  fingers  to  his  mouth  and  giving  forth  a  shrill 
whistle. 

The  instant  Crusoe  heard  the  sound  he  made  a  savage 
and  apparently  uncalled  for  dash  at  the  horse's  heels. 
This  wild  act,  so  contrary  to  the  dog's  gentle  nature,  was 
a  mere  piece  of  acting.  He  knew  that  the  horse  would 
not  advance  without  getting  a  fright,  so  he  gave  him 
one  in  this  way  which  sent  him  off  at  a  gallop.  Crusoe 
followed  close  at  his  heels,  so  as  to  bring  the  line  along- 
side of  the  nag's  body,  and  thereby  prevent  its  getting 
entangled ;  but  despite  his  best  efforts  the  horse  got  on 


n 


h    I 


68 


"through  the  woods." 


one  side  of  a  tree  and  he  on  the  other,  so  he  wisely  let 
go  his  hold  of  the  line,  and  waited  till  more  open  ground 
enabled  him  to  catch  it  again.  Then  he  hung  heavily 
back,  gradually  checked  the  horse's  speed,  and  finally 
trotted  him  up  to  his  master's  side. 

" '  Tis  a  cliver  cur,  good  sooth,"  exclaimed  Joe  Blunt 
in  surprise. 

"Ah,  Joe!  you  haven't  seen  much  of  Crusoe  yet. 
He's  as  good  as  a  man  any  day.  I've  done  little  else 
but  train  him  for  two  years  gone  by,  and  he  can  do 
most  any  thing  but  shoot  —  he  can't  handle  the  rifle  no- 
how." 

"  Ha !  then,  I  tink  perhaps  bims  could  if  he  wos  try," 
said  Henri,  plunging  on  to  his  horse  with  a  laugh,  and 
arranging  the  carcase  of  the  antelope  across  the  pommel 
of  his  saddle. 

Thus  they  hunted  and  galloped,  and  trotted  and  am- 
bled on  through  wood  and  plain  all  day,  until  the  sun 
began  to  descend  below  the  tree  tops  of  the  bluflfs  on  the 
west  —  then  Joe  Blunt  looked  about  him  for  a  place  on 
which  to  camp,  and  finally  fixed  on  a  spot  under  the 
shadow  of  a  noble  birch  by  the  margin  of  a  little  stream. 
The  carpet  of  grass  on  its  banks  was  soft  like  green  vel- 
vet, and  the  rippling  waters  of  the  brook  were  clear  as 
crystal  —  very  diffei\  t  from  the  muddy  Missouri  into 
which  it  flowed. 

While  D'ck  Varley  felled  and  cut  up  firewood,  Henri 


M. 


I 


INDIAN    THIEVING   PROPENSITIES. 


69 


.  >» 


unpacked  the  horses  and  turned  them  loose  to  graze, 
and  Joe  kindled  the  fire  and  prepared  venison  steaks 
and  hot  tea  for  supper. 

In  excursions  of  this  kind  it  is  customary  to  "  hobble  " 
the  horses ;  that  is,  to  tie  their  fore-legs  together,  so 
that  they  cannot  run  either  fast  or  far,  but  are  free 
enough  to  amble  about  with  a  clumsy  sort  of  hop  in 
search  of  food.  This  is  deemed  a  sufficient  check  on 
their  tendency  to  roam,  although  some  of  the  knowing 
horses  sometimes  learn  to  hop  so  fast  with  their  hobbles 
as  to  give  their  owners  much  trouble  to  recapture  them. 
But  when  out  in  the  prairies  where  Indians  are  known 
or  supposed  to  be  in  the  neighborhood,  the  horses  are 
picketted  by  means  of  a  pin  or  stake  attached  to  the 
ends  of  their  long  laryats,  as  well  as  hobbled  —  for  In- 
dians deem  it  no  disgrace  to  steal  or  tell  lies,  though 
they  think  it  disgraceful  to  be  found  out  in  doing  either. 
And  so  expert  are  these  dark-skinned  natives  of  the 
western  prairies,  that  they  will  creep  into  the  midst  of 
an  enemy's  camp,  cut  the  laryats  and  hobbles  of  several 
horses,  spring  suddenly  on  their  backs,  and  gallop 
away. 

They  not  only  steal  from  white  men,  but  tribes  that 
are  at  enmity  steal  from  each  other,  and  the  boldness 
with  which  they  do  this  is  most  remarkable.  When 
Indians  are  travelling  in  a  country  where  enemies  are 
prowling,  they  guard  their  camps  at  night  with  jealou* 


70 


THE    CAMP. 


care.  The  horses  in  particular  are  both  hobbled  and 
picketted,  and  sentries  are  -posted  all  round  the  camp. 
Yet,  in  spite  of  these  precautions,  hostile  Indians  man- 
age to  elude  the  sentries,  and  creep  into  the  camp.  When 
a  thief  thus  succeeds  in  affecting  an  entrance,  his  chief 
danger  is  past.  He  rises  boldly  to  his  feet,  and,  wrap- 
ping his  blanket  or  buffalo  robe  round  him,  he  walks  up 
and  down  as  if  he  were  a  member  of  the  tribe.  At  the 
same  time  he  dexterously  cuts  the  laryats  of  such  horses 
as  he  observes  are  not  hobbled.  He  dare  not  stoop  to 
cut  the  hobbles,  as  the  action  would  be  observed,  and 
suspicion  would  be  instantly  aroused.  He  then  leaps  on 
the  best  horse  he  can  find,  and  uttering  a  terrific  war- 
whoop  darts  away  into  the  plains,  driving  the  loosened 
horses  before  him. 

No  such  dark  thieves  were  supposed  to  be  near  the 
camp  under  the  birch-tree,  however,  so  Joe,  and  Dick, 
and  Henri  ate  their  supper  in  comfort,  and  let  their 
horses  browse  at  will  on  the  rich  pasturage. 

A  bright  ruddy  fire  was  soon  kindled,  which  created, 
as  it  were,  a  little  ball  of  light  in  the  midst  of  surround- 
ing darkness  for  thie  special  use  of  our  hardy  hunters. 
Within  this  magic  circle  all  was  warm,  comfortable,  and 
cheery.  Outside  all  was  dark,  and  cold,  and  dreary  by 
contrast. 

When  the  substantial  part  of  supper  was  disposed  of, 
tea  and  pipes  were  introduced,  and  conversation  began 


THE    CAMP. 


71 


to  flow.  Then  the  three  saddles  were  placed  in  a  row ; 
each  hunter  wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket,  and,  pillow- 
ing his  head  on  his  saddle,  stretched  his  feet  towards 
the  fire  and  went  to  sleep,  with  his  loaded  rifle  by  his 
side  and  his  hunting  knife  handy  in  his  belt.  Crusoe 
mounted  guard  by  stretching  himself  out  couchant  at 
Dick  Varley's  side.  The  faithful  dog  slept  lightly  and 
never  moved  all  night,  but  had  any  one  observed  him 
closely  he  would  have  seen  that  every  fitful  flame  that 
burst  from  the  sinking  fire,  every  unusual  puff  of  wind, 
and  every  motion  of  the  horses  that  fed  or  rested  hard 
by,  had  the  effect  of  revealing  a  speck  of  glittering 
white  in  Crusoe's  watchful  eye. 


ir 


72 


EARLY   MORNING. 


i 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  Great  Prairies  of  the  Far  West.  —  A  Remarkable  Colony  discov- 
ered, and  a  Miserable  Night  endured. 

Of  all  the  hours  of  the  night  or  day,  the  hour  that 
succeeds  the  dawn  is  the  purest,  the  most  joyous,  and 
the  best.  At  least  so  think  we ;  and  so  think  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  the  human  family;  and  so  thought 
Dick  Varley,  as  he  sprung  suddenly  into  a  sitting  pos- 
ture next  morning,  and  threw  his  arms  with  an  exulting 
feeling  of  delight  round  the  neck  of  Crusoe,  who  in- 
stantly sat  up  to  greet  him. 

This  was  an  unusual  piece  of  enthusiasm  on  the  part 
of  Dick,  but  the  dog  received  it  w^ith  marked  satisfac- 
tion, rubbed  his  big  hairy  cheek  against  that  of  his 
young  master,  and  arose  from  his  sedentary  position  in 
order  to  afford  free  scope  for  the  use  of  his  tail. 

"  Ho !  Joe  Blunt !  Henri !  Up,  boys,  up !  The  sun 
will  have  the  start  o'  us.     I'll  catch  the  nags." 

So  saying,  Dick  bounded  away  into  the  woods  with 
Crusoe  gambolling  joyously  at  his  heels.  Dick  soon 
caught  his  own  horse  and  Crusoe  caught  Joe's.    Then 


THE    GREAT   PRAIRIE. 


73 


the  former  mounted  and  quickly  brouglit  in  the  other 
two. 

Returning  to  the  camp  lie  found  every  thing  packed 
and  ready  to  strap  on  the  back  of  the  pack-horse. 

"  That's  the  way  to  do  it,  lad,"  cried  Joe.  "  Here, 
Henri,  look  alive  and  git  yer  beast  ready.  I  do  believe 
yer  goin'  to  take  another  snooze  ! " 

Henri  was  indeed,  at  that  moment,  indulging  in  a 
gigantic  stretch,  and  a  cavernous  yawn,  but  he  finished 
both  hastily,  and  ru.-hed  at  his  poor  horse  as  if  he  in- 
tended to  slay  it  on  the  spot.  He  only  threw  the  sad- 
dle on  its  back,  however,  and  th^n  thi'evv  himself  on  the 
saddle. 

"  Now  then,  all  ready  ?  " 

«Ay,  — Oui,  yis!" 

And  away  they  went  at  full  stretch  again  on  their 
journey. 

Thus  day  after  day  they  travelled,  and  night  r  ler 
night  they  laid  them  down  to  sleep  under  the  trees  of 
the  forest,  until  at  length  tl>ey  reached  the  edge  of  the 
Great  Prairie. 

It  was  a  great,  a  memorable  day  in  the  life  of  Dick 
Varley,  that  on  which  he  first  beheld  the  prairie,  —  the 
vast  boundless  prairie.  He  had  heard  of  it,  tailed  of 
it,  dreamed  about  it,  but  he  had  never,  —  no,  he  had 
never  realized  it.  'Tis  always  thus.  Our  conceptions 
of  things  that  we  have  not  seen  are  almost  invariably 

7 


11 


II 


a- 


74 


DICK   IS   AGAIN   OBSTHEPEROUS. 


wrong.  Dick's  eyes  glittered,  and  his  heart  swelled, 
and  his  checks  flushed,  and  his  breath  came  tliick  and 
quick. 

"  There  it  is,"  he  gasped,  as  the  great  rolling  plain 
broke  suddenly  on  his  enraptured  gaze;  "that's  it— 
oh!  —  " 

Dick  uttered  a  yell  that  would  have  done  credit  to 
the  fiercest  chief  of  the  Pawnees,  and,  being  unable  to 
utter  another  word,  he  swung  his  cap  in  the  air  and 
sprang  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow  over  the  mighty  ocean 
of  grass.  The  sun  h.'  J  just  risen  to  send  a  flood  of 
golden  glory  over  the  scene ;  the  horses  were  fresh,  so 
the  elder  hunters,  gladdened  by  the  beauty  of  all  around 
them,  and  inspired  by  the  irresistible  enthusiasm  of  their 
young  companion,  gave  the  reins  to  the  horses  and  flew 
after  him.  It  was  a  glorious  gallop,  that  first  headlong 
dash  over  the  boundless  prairie  of  the  "  far  west ! " 

The  prairies  have  often  been  compared,  most  justly, 
to  the  ocean.  There  is  the  same  wide  circle  of  space 
bounded  on  all  sides  by  the  horizon ;  there  is  the  same 
swell,  or  undulation,  or  succession  of  long  low  unbroken 
waves  that  marks  the  ocean  when  it  is  calm ;  they  are 
canopied  by  the  same  pure  sky,  and  swept  by  the  same 
unti^pmelled  breezes.  There  are  islands,  too  —  clumps 
of  trees  and  willow-bushes,  —  which  rise  out  of  this 
grassy  ocean  to  break  and  relieve  its  uniformity ;  and 
these  vary  in  size  and  numbers  as  do  the  isles  of  ocean 


i 


W 


'    f 


TROUBLES   BEGIN. 


7d 


—  being  numerous  in  some  places,  while  in  others  they 
are  so  scarce  that  the  traveller  does  not  meet  one  in  a 
long  (lay's  journey.  Thousands  of  beautiful  flowers 
decked  the  green  sward,  and  numbers  of  little  birds 
hopped  about  among  them. 

"  Now,  lads,"  said  Joe  Blunt,  reining  up,  "  our  trou- 
bles begin  to  day." 

"  Our  troubles !  our  joys,  you  mean ! "  exclaimed  Dick 
Varley. 

"  P'raps  I  don't  mean  iiothin'  o'  the  sort,"  retorted 
Joe.  "Man  wos  never  intended  to  swaller  his  joys 
without  a  strong  mixtur'  o'  troubles.  I  'spose  he  couldn't 
stand  'em  pure.  Ye  see  we've  got  to  the  prairie 
now  — " 

"  One  blind  boss  might  see  dat ! "  interrupied  Henri. 

"  An'  we  may  or  may  not  diskiver  buffalo.  An'  water's 
scarce,  too,  so  we'll  need  to  look  out  for  it  pretty  sharp, 
I  guess,  else  we'll  lose  our  horses,  in  which  case  we  may 
as  well  give  out  at  once.  Besides,  there's  rattlesnakes 
about  in  sandy  i)laces  —  we'll  ha'  to  look  out  for  them ; 
an'  there's  badger  holes  —  we'll  need  to  look  sharp  for 
them  lest  the  horses  put  their  feet  in  'em ;  an'  there's 
Injuns,  who'll  look  out  pretty  sharp  for  us  if  they  once 
get  wind  that  we're  in  them  parts." 

''  Oui,  yis,  mes  boys,  and  there's  rain,  and  tunder,  and 
lightnin',"  added  Henri,  pointing  to  a  dark  cloud  which 
was  seen  rising  on  the  horizon  ahead  of  them. 


m 


m 


76 


THE   PRAXRIE-DOOS. 


"  It'll  be  rain,"  rc.iiarkc J  Joe, "  but  there's  no  thunder 
in  the  air  jist  now;  we'll  make  for  yonder  clump  o* 
bushes  and  lay  by  till  it's  past." 

Turning  a  little  to  the  right  of  the  course  they  had 
been  following,  the  hunters  galloped  along  one  of  the 
hollows  between  the  prairie  waves  before  mentioned, 
in  the  direction  of  a  clump  of  willows.  Before  reach- 
ing it,  however,  they  passed  over  a  bleak  and  barren 
plain  where  there  was  neither  flower  nor  bird.  Hero 
they  were  suddenly  arrested  by  a  most  extraordinary 
sight  —  at  least  it  was  so  to  Dick  Varley,  who  had  never 
seen  the  like  before.  Tiiis  was  a  colony  of  what  Joe 
called  "  prairie-dogs."  On  first  beholding  them  Crusoe 
uttered  a  sort  of  half  growl,  half  bark  of  surprise,  cocked 
his  tail  and  ears,  and  instantly  prepared  to  charge,  but 
he  glanced  up  at  his  master  first  for  permission.  Observ- 
ing that  his  finger  and  his  look  commanded  "  silence  " 
he  dropped  bis  tail  at  once  and  stepped  to  the  rear.  He 
did  not,  however,  cease  to  regard  the  prairie-dogs  with 
intense  curiosity. 

These  remarkable  little  creatures  have  been  egre- 
giously  misnamed  by  the  hunters  of  the  west,  for  they 
bear  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to  dogs,  either  in  forma- 
tion or  habits.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  marmot,  and  in 
size  are  little  larger  than  squirrels,  which  animals  they 
resemble  in  some  degree.  They  burrow  under  the  light 
soil  and  throw  it  up  in  mounds  like  moles. 


:* 

'i 


THE   PRAIRIE-DOGS. 


77 


they 

)nna- 

id  in 

they 

light 


Thousands  of  them  were  running  about  among  their 
dwellings  when  Dick  first  beheld  them,  but  the  moment 
they  caught  sight  of  the  horsemen  rising  over  the  ridge, 
they  set  up  a  tremendous  hubbub  of  consternation ;  each 
little  beast  instantly  mounted  guard  on  the  top  of  his 
house,  and  prepared,  as  it  were,  "  to  receive  cavalry." 

The  most  ludictous  thing  about  them  was,  that  al- 
though the  most  timid  and  cowardly  creatures  in  the 
world,  they  seemed  the  most  impertinent  things  tliat 
ever  lived !  Knowing  that  their  holes  afforded  them  a 
perfectly  safe  retreat  they  sat  close  beside  them,  and  as 
the  hunters  slowly  approached,  they  elevated  their 
heads,  wagged  their  little  tails,  showed  their  teeth,  and 
chattered  at  them  like  monkeys.  The  nearer  they 
came  the  more  angry  and  furious  did  the  prairie-dogs 
become,  until  Dick  Varley  almost  fell  off  his  horse  with 
suppressed  laughter.  They  let  the  hunters  come  close 
up,  waxing  louder  and  louder  in  their  wrath ;  but  the 
instant  a  hand  was  raised  to  throw  a  stone  or  point  a 
gun,  a  thousand  little  heads  dived  into  a  thousand  holes, 
and  a  thousand  little  tails  wriggled  for  an  instant  in 
the  air  —  then,  a  dead  silence  reigned  over  the  deserted 
scene. 

"  Bien,  them's  have  dive  into  de  bo'-els  of  de  eart', " 
said  Henri  with  a  broad  grin. 

Presently  a  thousand  noses  appeared,  and  nervously 
disappeared  hke  the  wink  of  an  eye.    Then  they  ap- 

7* 


78 


THE   PRAIRIE-DOGS. 


peared  a^uin,  and  a  thousand  pair  of  eyes  followed. 
Instantly,  like  Jack  in  tbe  box,  they  were  all  on  the  top 
of  their  hillocks  again,  chattering  and  wagging  their 
little  tails  as  vigorously  as  ever.  You  could  not  say 
that  you  saiv  them  jump  out  of  their  holes.  Suddenly, 
as  if  by  magic,  they  were  out ;  then  Dick  tossed  up 
his  ta-ms,  and,  suddenly,  as  if  by  magic,  they  were 
gone ! 

Their  number  was  incredible,  and  their  cities  were 
full  of  riotous  activity.  What  their  occupations  were 
Ihe  hunters  could  not  ascertain,  but  it  was  perfectly 
evident  that  they  visited  a  great  deal  and  gossipped 
tremendously,  for  they  ran  about  from  house  to  house, 
and  sat  chatting  in  groups ;  but  it  was  also  observed 
that  they  never  went  far  from  their  own  houses.  Each 
seemed  to  have  a  circle  of  acquaintance  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  his  own  residence,  to  which  in  case  of 
sadden  danger  he  always  fled. 

But  another  thing  about  these  prairie-dogs  (perhaps, 
considering  their  size,  we  should  call  them  prairie- 
dogf,  V  ,,  another  thing  about  them,  we  say,  was  that 
i;ach  doggie  lived  with  an  ow),  or,  more  correctly,  an 
owl  lived  with  each  doggie !  This  is  such  an  extraor- 
dinary/oc^,  that  W8  could  scarce  hope  that  men  would 
believe  us,  were  our  statement  not  supported  by  dozens 
of  trust-worthy  travellers  who  have  visited  and  written 
about  these  regions.    Th    whole  plain  was  covered  with 


llowed. 
the  top 
I  their 
lot  say 
ddenly, 
sed  up 
jT   were 


es  were 
ns  were 
jerfectly 
ossipped 
c  house, 
)bservea 
.  Each 
imediate 
1  case  of 

[perhaps, 
prairie- 
was  that 
rectly,  an 
i  extraor- 
len  would 
by  dozens 
id  written 
•ered  with 


<* 


■' 


> 


A  COLONY    or    IM5A1P.IE    DOUS    UlSCUV  b«lil>. 


> 


iitiJ'mony. 
^!n  from  travellers 


!  '.  ■-  :i-. 


made 

"ii/  did     :=, 


F    ^B' 


,■:■'•*'       ,  'yv' 


■% 


m 


I 


THE    PRAiniE-DOGS. 


79 


*> 


I 


I: 


I  w- 


I  ?!  4 


these  owls.  Each  hole  seemed  to  be  the  residence  of 
an  owl  and  a  doggie,  and  these  incongruous  couples 
lived  together  apparently  ^n  perfect  harmony. 

We  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain  from  travellers 
w/i^  tlic  owls  have  gone  to  live  with  these  doggies,  so 
we  beg  humbly  to  offer  our  own  piivate  opinion  to  the 
reader.  We  assume,  then,  that  owls  find  it  absolutely 
needful  to  have  holes.  Probably  prairie-owls  cannot 
dig  holes  for  themselves.  Having  discovered,  however, 
a  race  of  little  creatures  that  could,  they  very  likely  de- 
termin(>d  to  take  forcible  possession  of  the  holes  made 
by  them.  Finding,  no  doubt,  that,  when  they  did  so, 
the  doggies  were  too  timid  to  object,  and  discovering, 
moreover,  that  they  were  sweet,  ■'  locent  little  crea- 
tures, the  owls  resolved  to  take  them  into  partnership, 
and  so  the  thing  was  settled — that's  how  it  came  about, 
nc  doubt  of  it  I 

There  is  a  report  that  rattlesnakes  live  in  these  holes 
also !  but  we  cannot  certify  our  reader  of  the  truth  of 
this,-  — still  it  is  well  to  be  acquainted  with  a  report  that 
is  current  among  the  men  of  the  backwoods.  If  it  be 
true,  we  are  of  opinion  that  the  doggie's  family  is  the 
most  miscellaneous  and  remarkable  on  the  face  of — 
or,  as  Henri  said,  in  the  bo'-els  of —  the  earth. 

Did-:  and  his  friends  were  so  deeply  absorbed  *a 
watching  these  curicus  Kttle  creatures  t^at  they  did  nos 
observe  the  rapid  spread  of  the  iAacu.  cloufls  over  the 


I    Ml 


80 


CRUSOE    CONTRIBUTES   TOWARDS    SUrPER. 


sky.  A  few  heavy  drops  of  rain  now  warned  them  to 
seek  shelter,  so  wheeling  round  they  dashed  off  at  speed 
for  the  clump  of  willows,  which  they  gained  just  as  the 
rain  began  to  descend  in  torrents. 

"Now,  lads,  do  it  slick.  Off  packs  and  saddles," 
cried  Joe  Blunt,  jumping  from  his  horse.  "  I'll  make  a 
hut  for  ye,  right  off." 

"A  hut,  Joe,  what  sort  o'  hut  can  ye  make  here?" 
inquired  Dick. 

"  Ye'll  see,  boy,  in  a  minute." 

"  Ach !  lend  me  a  hand  here,  Dick ;  de  bockle  am 
tight  as  de  hosse's  own  skin.     Ah !  dere  all  right." 

"  Hallo !  what's  this  ?  "  exclaimed  Dick,  as  Crusoe 
advanced  with  something  in  his  mouth.  "  I  declare,  it's 
a  bird  o'  some  sort." 

"  A  prairie-hen,"  remarked  Joe,  as  Crusoe  laid  the 
bird  at  Dick's  feet ;  "  capital  for  supper." 

"Ah  !  Dat  chien  is  superb !  goot  dog.  Come  here,  I 
vill  clap  you." 

But  Crusoe  refused  to  De  caressed.  Meanwhile,  Joe 
and  Dick  formed  a  sort  of  bee-hive  looking  hut  by 
bending  down  the  stems  of  a  tall  bush  and  thrusting 
their  points  into  the  ground.  Over  this  they  threw  the 
largest  buffalo  robe,  and  placed  another  on  the  ground 
below  it,  on  which  they  laid  their  packs  of  goods.  These 
they  further  secured  against  wet  by  placing  several 
robes  over  them  and  a  skin  of  parchment.     Then  they 


DREART    PROSPECTS. 


81 


the 


Joe 
t  by- 
sting 
,v  the 
round 
?hese 
iveral 

they 


sat  down  on  this  pile  to  rest  and  consider  what  should 
be  done  next. 

" '  Tis  a  bad  look-out,"  said  Joe,  shaking  his  head. 

"  I  fear  it  is,"  replied  Dick  in  a  melancholy  tone. 

Henri  said  nothing,  but  he  sighed  deeply  on  looking 
up  at  the  sky,  which  was  now  of  a  uniform  watery  grey, 
while  black  clouds  drove  athwart  it.  The  rain  was 
pouring  in  torrents,  and  the  wind  began  to  sweep  it  in 
broad  sheets  over  the  plains,  and  under  their  slight 
covering,  so  that  in  a  short  time  they  were  wet  to  the 
skin.  The  horses  stood  meekly  beside  them,  with 
their  tails  and  heads  equally  pendulous,  and  Crusoe  sat 
before  his  master,  looking  at  him  with  an  expression 
that  seemed  to  say,  "  Couldn't  you  put  a  stop  to  this  if 
you  were  to  try  ?  " 

"  This  '11  never  do.  I'll  try  to  git  up  a  fire,"  said 
Dick,  jumping  up  in  desperation. 

"Ye  may  save  yerself  the  trouble,"  remarked  Joe, 
drily  —  at  least  as  drily  as  was  possible  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

However,  Dick  did  try,  but  he  failed  signally.  Every- 
thing was  soaked  and  saturated.  There  were  no  large 
trees  ;  most  of  the  bushes  were  gi:een,  and  the  dead  ones 
were  soaked.  The  coverings  were  slobbery ;  the  skins 
they  sat  on  were  slobbery  ;  the  earth  itself  was  slobbery } 
so  Dick  threw  his,  blanket  (which  was  also  slobbery) 
round  his  shoulders,  and  sat  down  beside  his  compan- 


w 


82 


A  DISMAL   NIGHT. 


ions  to  grin  and  bear  it.  As  for  Joe  and  Henri,  they 
were  old  hands,  and  accustomed  to  such  circumstances. 
From  the  first  they  had  resigned  themselves  to  their 
fate,  and  wrapping  their  wet  blankets  round  them  sat 
down,  side  by  side,  wisely  to  endure  the  evils  that  they 
could  not  cure. 

There  is  an  old  rhyme,  by  whom  composed  we  know 
not —  and  it  matters  little  —  which  runs  thus  — 

"  For  every  evil  under  the  sun 
There  is  a  remedy  —  or  there's  none. 
If  there  is  —  try  and  find  it ; 
If  there  isn't — never  mind  it!  " 

There  is  deep  wisdom  here  in  small  compass.  The 
principle  involved  deserves  to  be  heartily  recommended. 
Dick  never  heard  of  the  lines,  but  he  knew  the  principle 
well ;  so  he  began  to  "  never  mind  it,"  by  sitting  down 
beside  his  companions  and  whistling  vociferously.  As 
the  wind  rendered  this  a  difficult  feat  he  took  to  singing 
instead.  After  that  he  said,  "  Let's  eat  a  bite,  Joe,  and 
then  go  to  bed." 

"  Be  all  means,"  said  Joe,  who  produced  a  mass  of 
dried  deer's  meat  from  a  wallet. 

"  It's  cold  grub,"  said  Dick,  "  and  tough." 

But  the  hunters'  teeth  were  sharp  and  strong,  so 

they  ate  a  hearty  supper  and  washed  it  down  with  a 

drink  of  rain  water  collecteti  from  a  pool  on  the  top  of 

their  hut.     They  now  tried  to  sleep,  for  the  night  was 


lii 


A   DISMAL    NIGHT. 


88 


[ing 


sof 


advancing,  and  it  was  so  dark  that  they  could  scarce 
see  their  hands  when  held  up  before  their  faces.  They 
sat  back  to  back,  and  thus,  in  the  form  of  a  tripod, 
began  to  snooze.  Joe's  and  Henri's  seasoned  frames 
would  have  remained  stiff  as  posts  till  morning;  but 
Dick's  body  was  young  and  pliant,  so  he  hadn't  been 
asleep  a  few  seconds  when  he  fell  forward  into  the  mud 
and  effectually  awakened  the  others.  Joe  gave  a  grunt, 
and  Henri  exclaimed,  "  Hah  ! "  but  Dick  was  too  sleepy 
and  miserable  to  say  any  thing.  Crusoe,  however,  rose 
up  to  show  his  sympathy,  and  laid  his  wet  head  on  his 
master's  knee  as  he  resumed  his  place.  This  catastrophe 
happened  three  times  in  the  space  of  an  hour,  and  by 
the  third  time  they  were  all  awakened  up  so  thoroughly 
ihat  they  gave  up  the  attempt  to  sleep,  and  amused 
each  other  by  recounting  their  hunting  experiences  and 
telling  stories.  So  engrossed  did  they  become  that  day 
broke  sooner  than  they  had  expected  —  and,  just  in 
proportion  as  the  grey  light  of  dawn  rose  higher  into 
the  eastern  sky,  did  the  spirits  of  these  weary  men  rise 
within  their  soaking  bodies. 


.,  so 
il'a  a 
p  of 
was 


84 


THINGS   IMPROVE. 


f 


CHAPTER  VII. 


r 


The  "  Wallering"  Peculiarities  of  Buffalo  Bulls.  —  The  First  Buffalo 
Hunt  and  its  consequences.  —  Crusoe  comes  to  the  Rescue.  —  Paw- 
nees discovered.  —  A  Monster  Buffalo  Hunt.  — Joe  acts  the  part  of 
Ambassador. 

Fortunately  the  day  that  succeeded  the  dreary 
night  described  in  the  last  chapter  was  warm  and  magni- 
ficent. The  sun  rose  in  a  blaze  of  splendor  and  filled 
the  atmosphere  with  steam  from  the  moist  earth. 

The  unfortunates  in  the  wet  camp  were  not  slow  to 
avail  themselves  of  his  cheering  rays.  They  hung  up 
every  thing  on  the  bushes  to  dry,  and  by  dint  of  extreme 
patience  and  cutting  out  the  comparatively  dry  hearts 
of  several  pieces  of  wood,  they  lighted  a  fire  and  boiled 
some  rain  water,  which  was  soon  converted  into  soup. 
This,  and  the  exercise  necessary  for  the  performance  of 
these  several  duties,  warmed  and  partially  dried  them, 
so  that  when  they  once  more  mounted  their  steeds  and 
rode  away  they  were  in  a  state  of  comparative  comfort 
and  excellent  spirits.  The  only  annoyance  was  the 
clouds  of  musquitoes  and  large  flies  that  assailed  men 
and  horses  whenever  they  checked  their  speed. 


BUFFALOES. 


85 


Uifialo 
-Paw- 
part  of 


Ircary 
nagni- 
l  filled 


slow  to 
ung  up 
xtreme 
hearts 
boiled 

0  soup, 
ance  of 

1  them, 
ds  and 
comfort 
was  the 
led  men 


f 


"  I  tell  ye  wot  it  is,"  said  Joe  Blunt,  one  fine  morn- 
ing about  a  week  after  they  had  begun  to  cross  the 
prairie,  "it's  my  'pinion  that  we'll  come  on  buffaloes 
soon.  Them  tracks  arc  fresh,  an'  yonder's  one  o'  their 
wallers  that's  bin  used  not  long  agone." 

"  I'll  go  have  a  look  at  it,"  cried  Dick,  trotting  away 
as  he  spoke. 

Every  thing  in  these  vast  prairies  was  new  to  Dick 
Varley,  and  he  was  kept  in  a  constant  state  of  excite- 
ment during  the  first  week  or  two  of  his  journey.  It 
is  true  he  was  quite  familiar  with  the  names  and  habits 
of  all  the  animals  that  dwelt  there,  for  many  a  time 
and  oft  had  he  listened  to  the  "  yarns  "  of  the  hunters 
and  trappers  of  the  Mustang  Valley,  when  they  returned 
laden  with  rich  furs  from  their  periodical  hunting  ex- 
peditions. But  this  knowledge  of  his  only  served  to 
whet  his  curiosity  and  his  desire  to  see  the  denizens  of 
the  prairies  with  his  own  eyes,  and  now  that  his  wish 
was  accomplished,  it  greatly  increased  the  pleasures  of 
his  journey. 

Dick  had  just  reached  the  "  wallow,"  referred  to  by 
Joe  Blunt,  and  had  reined  up  his  steed  to  observe  it 
leisurely,  when  a  faint  hissing  sound  reached  his  ear. 
Looking  quickly  back  he  observed  his  two  companions 
crouching  on  the  necks  of  their  horses,  and  slowly  de- 
scending into  a  hollow  of  the  prairie  in  front  of  them, 
as  if  they  wished  to  bring  the  rising  ground  between 


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86 


BUrF  ALOES. 


,i 


them  and  some  object  in  advance.  Dick  instantly 
followed  their  example  and  was  soon  at  their  heels. 

"Ye  needn't  look  at  the  waller,"  whispered  Joe, 
" for  a'  tother  side  o'  the  ridge  there's  a  bull  '>'mllerin" 

"  Ye  don't  mean  it ! "  exclaimed  Dick,  as  they  all 
dismounted  and  picketted  their  horses  to  the  plain. 

"Oui,"  said  Henri,  tumbling  off  his  horse,  while  a 
broad  grin  overspread  his  good-natured  countenance; 
*f  it  is  one  fact !  One  buffalo  bull  be  wollerin'  like  a 
enormerous  hog.  Also,  dere  be  t'ousands  o'  buffaloes 
farder  on." 

"  Can  ye  trust  yer  dog  keepin'  back  ?  "  inquired  Joe, 
with  a  dubious  glance  at  Crusoe. 

"  Trust  him !  Ay,  I  wish  I  was  as  sure  o'  my- 
self." 

"  Look  to  your  primin*,  then,  an'  we'll  have  tongues 
and  marrow  bones  for  supper  to-night,  I'se  warrant 
Hi?t!  down  on  yer  knees,  and  go  softly.  We  might 
ha'  run  them  down  on  horseback,  but  it's  bad  to  wind 
yer  beasts  on  a  trip  like  this,  if  ye  can  help  it ;  an'  it's 
about  as  easy  to  stalk  them.  Least  ways,  we'll  try. 
Lift  yer  head  slowly,  Dick,  an'  don't  show  more  nor  the 
half  o't  above  the  ridge." 

Dick  elevated  his  head  as  directed,  and  the  scene 
that  met  his  view  was  indeed  well  calculated  to  send 
an  electric  shock  to  the  heart  of  an  ardent  sportsman. 
The  vast  plain  beyond  was  absolutely  blackened  with 


f 


BUFFALOES. 


87 


countless  herds  of  buffaloes,  which  were  browsing  on 
the  rich  grass.  They  were  still  so  far  distant  that 
their  bellowing,  and  the  trampling  of  their  myriad 
hoofs,  only  reached  the  hunters  like  a  faint  murmur  on 
the  breeze.  In  the  immediate  foreground,  however, 
there  was  a  group  of  about  half-a-dozen  buffalo-cows 
feeding  quietly,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  an  enormous 
old  bull  was  enjoying  himself  in  his  wallow.  The 
animals,  towards  which  our  hunters  now  crept  with 
murderous  intent,  are  the  fiercest  and  the  most  pon- 
derous of  the  ruminating  inhabitants  of  the  western 
wilderness.  The  name  of  buffalo,  however,  is  not  cor- 
rect. The  animal  is  the  bison,  and  bears  no  resemblance 
whatever  to  the  buffalo  proper ;  but  as  the  hunters  of 
the  far-west  —  and,  indeed,  travellers  generally,  have 
adopted  the  misnomer,  we  bow  to  the  authority  of 
custom  and  adopt  it  too. 

Buffaloes  roam  in  countless  thousands  all  over  the 
North  American  prairies,  from  the  Hudson's  Bay  ter- 
ritories, north  of  Canada,  to  the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico. 

The  advance  of  white  men  to  the  west  has  driven 
them  to  the  prairies  between  the  Missouri  and  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  has  somewhat  diminished  their 
numbers;  but  even  thus  diminished,  they  are  still  in- 
numerable in  the  more  distant  plains.  Their  color  is 
dark  brown,  but  it  varies  a  good  deal  with  the  seasons. 


88 


BUFFALOES. 


I      i 


1 


The  hair  or  fur,  from  its  great  length  in  winter  and 
spring,  and  exposure  to  the  weather,  turns  quite  light ; 
but  when  the  winter  coat  is  shed  off,  the  new  growth  i3 
a  beautiful  dark  brown,  almost  approaching  to  jet  black. 
In  form  the  buffalo  somewhat  resembles  the  ox,  but  its 
head  and  shoulders  are  much  larger,  and  nie  covered 
with  a  profusion  of  long  shaggy  hair,  which  adds 
greatly  to  the  fierce  aspect  of  the  animal.  It  has  a 
large  hump  on  the  shoulder,  and  ifs  fore  quarters  are 
much  larger,  in  proportion,  than  the  hind  quarters. 
The  horns  are  short  and  thick ;  the  hoofs  are  cloven, 
l^9i  and  the  tail  is  short,  with  a  uft  of  hair  at  the  extrem- 
ity. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  a  wilder  or  more 
ferocious  and  terrible  monster  than  a  buffalo  bull.  He 
often  grows  to  the  enormous  weight  of  two  thousand 
pounds.  His  lion-like  mane  falls  in  shaggy  confusion 
quite  over  his  head  and  shoulders,  down  to  the  ground. 
When  he  is  wounded  he  becomes  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  a  tiger ;  he  stamps,  bellows,  roars,  and  foams 
forth  his  rage  with  glaring  eyes  and  steaming  nostrils ; 
and  charges  furiously  at  man  and  horse  with  utter  reck- 
lessness. Fortunately,  however,  he  is  not  naturally 
pugnacious,  and  can  be  easily  thrown  into  a  sudden 
panic.  Moreover,  the  peculiar  position  of  his  eye  ren- 
ders this  creature  not  wo  terrible  as  he  would  otherwise 
be  to  the  hunter.     Owing  to  the  stiff  structure  of  the 


:| 


BUFFALO   TVALLOWS. 


89 


36 


neck,  and  the  sunken,  dowr. ward-looking  eyeball,  the 
buffalo  cannot,  without  an  effDrt,  see  beyond  the  direct 
line  of  vision  presented  to  the  habitual  carriage  of  his 
head.  When,  therefore,  he  is  wounded,  and  charges, 
he  does  so  in  a  straight  line,  so  that  his  pursuer  can 
leap  easily  out  of  his  way.  The  pace  of  the  buffalo  is 
clumsy,  and  apparently  slow,  yet,  when  chased,  he 
dashes  away  over  the  plains  in  blind  blundering  terror, 
at  a  rate  that  leaves  all  but  good  horses  far  behind. 
He  cannot  keep  the  pace  up,  however,  and  is  usually 
soon  overtaken.  Were  the  buffalo  capable  of  the  same 
alert  and  agile  motions  of  head  and  eye  peculiar  to  the 
deer  or  wild-horse,  in  addition  to  his  "  bovine  rage,^'  he 
would  be  the  most  formidable  brute  on  earth.  There  is 
no  object,  perhaps,  so  terrible  as  the  headlong  advance 
of  a  herd  of  these  animals  when  thoroughly  aroused  by 
terror.  They  care  not  for  their  necks.  All  danger  in 
front  is  forgotten,  or  not  seen,  in  the  terror  of  that  from 
which  they  fly.  No  thundering  cataract  is  more  tre- 
mendously irresistible  than  the  black  bellowing  torrent 
which  sometimes  pour  through  the  narrow  defiles  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  or  sweeps  like  a  roaring  flood  over 
the  trembling  plains. 

The  wallowing,  to  which  we  have  referred,  is  a  lux- 
ury usually  indulged  in  during  the  hot  months  of  sum- 
mer, when  the  buffaloes   are  tormented  by  flies,  and 

beat,  and  drought.    At  this  season  they  seek  the  low 

8* 


d 


BUFFALO    SHOOTING. 


■S    : 


-I 


grounds  in  the  prairies  where  there  is  a  little  stagnant 
water  lying  amongst  the  grass,  and  the  ground  under- 
neath, being  saturated,  is  soft.  The  leader  of  the  herd, 
a  shaggy  old  bull,  usually  take  upon  himself  to  prepare 
the  wallow. 

It  was  a  rugged  monster  of  the  largest  size  that  did 
so  on  the  present  occasion,  to  the  intense  delight  of 
Dick  Varley,  who  begged  Joe  to  lie  still  and  watch  the 
operation  before  trying  to  shoot  one  of  the  buffalo- 
cows.  Joe  consented  with  a  nod,  and  the  four  spec- 
tators—  for  Crusoe  was  as  much  taken  up  with  the 
proceedings  as  any  of  them  —  crouched  in  the  grass, 
and  looked  on. 

Coming  up  to  the  swampy  spot  the  old  bull  gave  a 
grunt  of  satisfaction,  and,  going  down  on  one  knee, 
plunged  his  short  thick  horns  into  the  mud,  tore  it  up, 
and  cast  it  aside.  Having  repeated  this  several  times, 
he  plunged  his  head  in,  and  brought  it  forth  saturated 
with  dirty  water,  and  bedaubed  with  lumps  of  mud, 
through  which  his  fierce  eyes  gazed,  with  a  ludicrous 
expression  of  astonishment,  straight  in  the  direction  of 
the  hunters,  as  if  he  meant  to  say,  "  I've  done  it  that 
time,  and  no  mistake ! "  The  other  buffaloes  seemed  to 
think  so  too,  for  they  came  up  and  looked  on  with  an 
expression  that  seemed*  to  say,  "  Well  done,  old  fellow ; 
try  that  again ! " 

The  old  fellow  did  try  it  again,  and  again,  and  again, 


BUFFALO    SHOOTING. 


91 


tin. 


plunging,  and  ramming,  and  tearing  up  the  earth,  until 
he  formed  an  excavation  large  enough  to  contain  his 
huge  body.  In  this  bath  he  laid  himself  comfortably 
down,  and  began  to  roll  and  wallow  about  until  he 
mixed  up  a  trough  full  of  thin  soft  mud,  which  com- 
pletely covered  him.  When  he  came  out  of  the  hole 
there  was  scarcely  an  atom  of  his  former  self  visible ! 

The  coat  of  mud  thus  put  on  by  bulls  is  usually  per- 
mitted by  them  to  dry,  and  is  not  finally  got  rid  of  until 
Jong  after,  when  oft-repeated  rollings  on  the  grass  and 
washings  by  rain  at  length  clears  it  away. 

When  the  old  bull  vacated  this  delectable  bath, 
another  bull,  scarcely  if  at  all  less  ferocious  looking, 
stepped  forward  to  take  his  turn,  but  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  volley  from  the  hunters,  which  scattered 
the  animals  right  and  left,  and  sent  the  mighty  herds 
in  the  distance  flying  over  the  prairie  in  wild  terror. 
The  very  turmoil  of  their  own  mad  flight  added  to  their 
panic,  and  the  continuous  thunder  of  their  hoofs  was 
heard  until  the  last  of  them  disappeared  on  the  horizon. 
The  family  party  which  had  been  fired  at,  however,  did 
not  escape  so  well.  Joe's  rifle  wounded  a  fat  young 
cow,  and  Dick  Varley  brought  it  down.  Henri  had 
done  his  best,  but,  as  the  animals  were  too  far  distant 
for  his  limited  vision,  he  missed  the  cow  he  fired  at  and 
hit  the  young  bull  whose  bath  had  been  interrupted. 
The  others  scattered  and  fled. 


92 


dick's  adventure  with  the  bull. 


"Well  done,  Dick,"  exclaimed  Joe  Blimt,  as  they  all 
ran  up  to  the  cow  that  had  fallen.  "Your  first  shot  at 
the  buffalo  was  a  good  uQ.  Come  T}/m  an'  I'll  show  ye 
how  to  cut  it  up  an*  carry  off  the  'it  bit." 

"  Ah !  mon  dear  ole  bull,"  .xclaimed  Henri,  gazing 
after  the  animal  which  he  h'.d  wounded,  and  which  was 
now  limping  slowly  away.  "  You  is  not  worth  goin' 
after.     Farewell,  —  adieu." 

"  He'll  be  tough  enough,  I  warrant,"  said  Joe,  "  an* 
we've  more  meat  here  nor  we  can  lift." 

"  But  wouldn't  it  be  as  well  to  put  the  poor  brute 
out  o'  pain,"  suggested  Dick. 

"  Oh,  he'll  die  soon  enough,"  replied  Joe,  tucking  up 
his  sleeves  and  drawing  his  long  hunting  knife. 

Dick,  however,  was  not  satisfied  with  this  way  of 
looking  at  it.  Saying  that  he  would  be  back  in  a  few 
minutes  he  re-loaded  his  rifle,  and  calling  Crusoe  to  his 
side,  walked  quickly  after  the  wounded  bull,  which  was 
now  hid  from  view  in  a  hollow  of  the  plain. 

in  a  few  minutes  he  came  in  sight  of  it,  and  ran  for- 
ward with  his  rifle  in  readiness. 

"Down,  Crusoe,"  he  whispered,  "wait  for  me 
here." 

Crusoe  crouched  in  the  grass  instantly,  and  Dick 
advanced.  As  he  came  on,  the  bull  observed  him,  and 
turned  round  bellowing  with  rage  and  pain  to  receive 
him.    The  aspect  of  the  brute  on  a  near  view  was  so 


I 


dick's  adventure  -with  the  bull. 


93 


terrible,  that  Dick  involuntarily  stopped  too,  and  gazed 
with  a  mingled  feeling  of  wonder  and  awe,  while  it 
bristled  with  passion,  and  blood-streaked  foam  dropped 
from  its  open  jaws,  and  its  eyes  glared  furiously. 
Seeing  that  Dick  did  not  advance,  the  bull  charged 
him  with  a  terrific  roar ;  but  the  youth  had  firm  nerves, 
and  although  the  rush  of  such  a  savage  creature  at  full 
speed  was  calculated  to  try  the  courage  of  any  man, 
especially  one  who  had  never  seen  a  buffalo  bull  before, 
Dick  did  not  lose  presence  of  mind.  He  remembered 
the  many  stories  he  had  listened  to  of  this  very  thing, 
that  was  now  happening,  so,  crushing  down  his  excite- 
ment as  well  as  he  could,  he  cocked  his  rifle,  and 
awaited  the  charge.  He  knew  that  it  was  of  no  use  to 
fire  at  the  head  of  the  advancing  foe,  as  the  thickness  of 
the  skull,  together  with  the  matted  hair  on  the  forehead, 
rendered  it  impervious  to  a  bullet. 

When  the  bull  was  within  a  yard  of  him  he  leaped 
lightly  to  one  side  and  it  passed.  Just  as  it  did  so, 
Dick  aimed  at  its  heart  and  fired,  but  his  knowledge  of 
the  creature's  anatomy  was  not  yet  correct.  The  ball 
entered  the  shoulder  too  high,  and  the  bull,  checking 
himself  as  well  as  he  could  in  his  headlong  rush,  turned 
round  and  made  at  Dick  again. 

The  failure  coupled  with  the  excitement  proved  too 
much  for  Dick;  he  could  not  resist  discharging  his 
second  barrel  at  the  brute's  head  as  it  came  on.     He 


94 


CRUSOE  TO   THE   RESCUE. 


I   \^ 


might  as  well  have  fired  at  a  brick  wall ;  it  shook  its 
shaggy  front,  and  with  a  hideous  bellow  thundered 
forward.  Again  Dick  sprang  to  one  side,  but  in  doing 
so  a  tuft  of  grass  or  a  stone  caught  his  foot,  and  he  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground. 

Up  to  this  point  Crusoe's  admirable  training  had 
nailed  him  to  the  spot  where  he  had  been  left,  although 
the  twitching  of  every  fibre  in  his  body  and  a  low  con- 
tinuous whine  showed  how  gladly  he  would  have  hailed 
permission  to  join  in  the  combat;  but  the  instant  he 
saw  his  master  down  and  the  buffalo  turning  to  charge 
again,  he  sprang  forward  with  a  roar  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  his  bovine  enemy,  and  seized  him  by  the 
nose.  So  vigorous  was  the  rush  that  he  wellnigh 
pulled  the  bull  down  on  its  side.  One  toss  of  its  head, 
however,  sent  Crusoe  high  into  the  air,  but  it  accom- 
plished this  feat  at  ♦he  expense  of  its  nose,  which  was 
torn  and  lacerated  by  the  dog's  teeth. 

Scarcely  had  Crusoe  touched  the  ground,  which  he 
did  with  a  sounding  thump,  than  he  sprang  up  and 
flew  at  his  adversary  again.  This  time,  however,  he 
adopted  the  plan  of  barking  furiously  and  biting  by 
rapid  yet  terrible  snaps  as  he  found  opportunity,  thus 
keeping  the  bull  entirely  engrossed,  and  affording  Dick 
an  opportunity  of  re-loading  his  rifle  which  he  was  not 
slow  to  do.  Dick  then  stepped  close  up,  and,  while 
the  two  combatants  were  roaring  in  each  other's  faces, 


CRUaOE   TO   THE   RESCUE. 


96 


be  sbot  the  buffalo  through  the  heart.    It  fell  to  the 
earth  with  a  deep  ';^i  oan. 

Crusoe's  rage  instantly  vanished  on  beholding  this, 
and  he  sf^  med  to  be  filled  with  tumultuous  joy  at  his 
master's  escape,  for  he  gambolled  round  him,  and 
whined  and  fawned  upon  him  iu  a  manner  that  could 
not  be  misunderstood. 

"  Good  dog ;  thank'ee,  my  pup,"  said  Dick,  patting 
Crusoe's  head  as  he  stooped  to  brush  the  dust  from  his 
leggings ;  "  I  don't  know  what  would  ha'  become  o'  me 
but  for  your  help,  Crusoe." 

Crusoe  turned  his  head  a  little  to  one  side,  wagged 
his  tail,  and  looked  at  Dick  with  an  expression  that 
said  quite  plainly,  "  I'd  die  for  you,  I  would  —  not  once, 
or  twice,  but  ten  times,  fifty  times  if  need  be  —  and 
that  not  merely  to  save  your  life,  but  even  to  please  you." 

There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  Crusoe  felt  some- 
thing of  this  sort.  The  love  of  a  Newfoundland  dog  to 
its  master  is  beyond  calculation  or  expression.  He  who 
once  gains  such  love  carries  the  dog's  life  in  his  hand. 
But  let  him  who  reads  note  well,  and  remember,  that 
there  is  only  one  coin  that  can  purchase  such  love,  and 
|that  is  kindness  ;  the  coin,  too,  must  be  genuine.  Kind- 
less  merely  expressed  will  not  do,  it  must  he  felt. 

"  Hallo !  boy,  ye've  bin  i'  the  wars  ! "  exclaimed  Joe, 

ising  himself  from  his  task  as  Dick  and  Crusoe  re- 
lumed. 


96 


now  TO    CUT   UP   BUFFALO   MEAT 


"  You  look  more  like  it  than  I  do,"  retorted  Dick, 
laughing. 

This  was  true,  "ir  cutting  up  a  buffalo  carcase  with 
no  other  instrumv/it  than  a  large  knife  is  no  easy 
matter.  Yet  western  hunters  and  Indians  can  do  it 
without  cleaver  or  saw,  in  a  way  that  would  surprise  a 
civilized  butcher  not  a  little.  Joe  was  covered  with 
blood  up  to  the  elbows.  His  hair,  happening  to  have 
a  knack  of  getting  into  his  eyes,  had  been  so  often 
brushed  off  with  bloody  hands,  that  his  whole  visage 
was  speckled  with  gore,  and  his  dress  was  by  no  means 
immaculate. 

While  Dick  related  his  adventure,  or  miVadventure 
W'th  the  bull,  Joe  and  Henri  completed  the  cutting 
out  of  the  most  delicate  portions  of  the  buffalo,  namely, 
the  hump  on  its  shoulder  —  which  is  a  choice  piece, 
much  finer  than  the  best  beef —  and  the  tongue,  and 
a  few  other  parts.  The  tongues  of  buffaloes  are  supe- 
rior to  those  of  domestic  cattle.  When  all  was  ready 
the  meat  was  slung  across  the  back  of  the  pack-horse, 
and  the  party,  remounting  their  horses,  continued 
their  journey,  having  first  cleansed  themselves  as  well 
us  they  could  in  the  rather  dirty  waters  of  an  old  wal- 
low. 

"  See,"  said  Henri,  turning  to  Dick  and  pointing  to 
a  circular  spot  of  green  as  they  rode  along,  "  that  is  one 
old  dry  waller." 


INDIANS    DISCOVERED. 


97 


"  Ay,"  remarked  Joe,  "  after  tlie_  waller  dries,  it 
becomes  a  ring  o'  greener  grass  than  the  rest  o'  the 
plain,  as  ye  see.  'Tis  said  the  lirst  hunters  used  to 
wonder  greatly  at  ihate  niyster'ous  circles,  and  they 
invented  all  sorts  o'  stories  to  account  for  'cm.  Some 
said  they  wos  fairy-rings,  but  at  last  thoy  comed  to 
know  they  wos  nothin'  more  nor  less  than  places 
where  buffaloes  wos  used  to  waller  in.  It's  often 
seemed  to  me  that  if  we  knowed  the  raisons  o'  things 
we   wouldn't   be   so  much    puzzled  wi'   them   as  we 


t* 


are. 

The  truth  of  this  last  remark  was  so  self-evi- 
dent and  incontrovertible  that  it  elicited  no  reply,  and 
the  three  friends  rode  on  for  a  considerable  time  in 
silence. 

It  was  now  past  noon,  and  they  were  thinking  of 
calling  a  halt  for  a  short  rest  to  the  horses  and  a  pipe 
to  themselves,  when  Joe  was  heard  to  give  vent  to  one 
of  those  I  culiar  hisses,  that  always  accompanied  either 
a  surprise  or  a  caution.  In  the  present  case  it  indicated 
both. 

"What  now,  Joe?" 

"  Injuns ! "  ejaculated  Joe. 

"  Eh !  fat  you  say  ?  ou  is  de  ?  " 

Crusoe  at  this  moment  uttered  a  Io't  growl.  Ever 
since  the  day  he  had  been  partially  roasted  he  had 
maintained  a  rooted  antipathy  to  red-men.     Joe  im- 


98 


INDIANS   DISCOVERED. 


mediately  dismounted,  and  placing  his  ear  to  the 
ground  listened  intently.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  by 
placing  the  ear  close  to  the  ground  sounds  can  be 
heard  distinctly  which  could  not  be  heard  at  all  if  the 
listener  were  to  maintain  an  erect  position. 

"  They're  sirter  the  buffalo,"  said  Joe,  rising,  "  an'  I 
think  it's  likely  they're  a  band  o'  Pawnees.  Listen  an* 
ye'll  hear  their  shouts  quite  plain." 

Dick  and  Henri  immediately  lay  down  and  placed 
their  ears  to  the  ground. 

"Now,  me  hear  noting,"  said  Henri,  jumping  up, 
"  but  me  ear  is  like  me  eyes ;  ver'  short-sighted." 

"  I  do  hear  something,"  said  Dick,  as  he  got  up,  "  but 
the  beating  o'  my  own  heart  makes  row  enough  to  spoil 
my  hearin'." 

Joe  Blunt  smiled.  "Ah!  lad,  yer  young,  an'  yer 
blood's  too  hot  yet,  but  bide  a  bit;  you'll  cuol  down 
soon.    I  wos  like  you  once.    Now,  lads,  what  think  ye 

« 

we  should  do  ?  " 

"  You  know  best,  Joe.** 

«  Oui,  nodoubtedly." 

"  Then  wot  I  advise  is  that  we  gallop  to  the  broken 
sand  hillocks  ye  see  yonder,  get  behind  them  an*  take  a 
peep  at  the  Eed-skins.  If  they  are  Pawnees  we'll  go 
up  to  them  at  once ;  if  not,  we'll  hold  a  council  o'  war 
on  the  spot." 

Having  arranged  this  they  mounted  and  hastened 


THE    GREAT  HUNT. 


99 


towards  the  hillocks  in  question,  which  they  reached 
after  ten  minutes'  gallop,  at  full  stretch.  The  sandy 
mound  afforded  them  concealment,  and  enabled  them 
to  watch  the  proceedings  of  the  savages  in  the  plain 
below.  The  scene  was  the  most  curious  and  exciting 
that  can  be  conceived.  The  centre  of  the  plain  before 
them  was  crowded  with  hundreds  of  buffaloes,  which 
were  dashing  about  in  the  most  frantic  state  of  alarm. 
To  whatever  point  thoy  galloped  they  were  met  by 
yelling  savages  on  horseback,  who  could  not  have 
been  fewer  in  numbers  than  a  thousand  —  all  being 
armed  with  lance,  bow,  and  quiver,  and  mounted  on 
active  little  horses.  The  Indians  had  completely  sur- 
rounded the  herd  of  buffaloes,  and  were  now  advancing 
steadily  towards  them,  gradually  narrowing  the  circle, 
and,  whenever  the  terrified  animals  endeavored  to 
break  through  the  line,  they  rushed  to  that  particular 
spot  in  a  body,  and  scared  them  back  again  into  the 
centre. 

Thus  they  advanced  until  they  closed  in  on  their 
prey,  and  formed  an  unbroken  circle  round  them,  whilst 
the  poor  brutes  kept  eddying  and  surging  to  and  fro 
in  a  confused  mass,  hooking  and  climbing  upon  each 
other,  and  bellowing  furiously.  Suddenly  the  horse- 
men made  a  rush,  and  the  work  of  destruction  began. 
The  tremendous  turmoil  raised  a  cloud  of  dust  that 
obscured  the  field  in  some  places,  and  hid  it  from  our 


H: 


•    St 


n 


i 


Ml  1 


100 


THE    GREAT   HUNT. 


/ 


hunter's  view.  Some  of  the  Indians  galloped  round 
and  round  the  circle,  sending  their  arrows  whizzing  up 
to  the  feathers  in  the  sides  of  the  fattest  cows.  Otliers 
dashed  fearlessly  into  the  midst  of  the  black  heaving 
mass,  and,  with  their  long  lances,  pierced  dozens  of 
them  to  the  heart.  In  many  instances  the  buffaloes, 
infuriated  by  wounds,  turned  fiercely  on  their  assailants 
and  gored  the  horses  to  death,  in  which  cases  the  men 
had  to*  trust  to  their  nimble  legs  for  safety.  Sometimes 
a  horse  got  jammed  in  the  centre  of  the  swaying  mass, 
and  could  neither  advance  nor  retreat.  Then  the  sav- 
age rider  leaped  upon  the  buffaloes'  backs,  and  spring- 
ing from  one  to  another,  like  an  acrobat,  gained  the 
outer  edge  of  the  circle,  not  failing,  however,  in  his 
strange  flight,  to  pierce  Avith  his  lance  several  of  the 
fattest  of  his  stepping-stones  as  he  sped  along. 

A  few  of  the  herd  succeeded  in  escaping  from  the 
blood  and  dust  of  this  desperate  battle,  and  made 
off  over  the  plains,  but  they  were  quickly  overtaken, 
and  the  lance  or  arrow  brought  them  down  on  the 
green  turf.  Many  of  the  dismounted  riders  were 
chased  by  bulls,  but  they  stepped  lightly  to  one  side, 
and,  as  the  animals  passed,  drove  their  arrows  deep 
into  their  sides.  Thus  the  tumultuous  war  went 
on,  amid  thundering  tread,  and  yell,  and  bellow,  till 
the  green  plain  was  transformed  into  a  sea  of  blood 
and  mire,  and  every  buffalo  of  the  herd  was  laid  low. 


THE   MEETING. 


101 


It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  such  reckless  warfare 
is  invariably  waged  without  damage  to  the  savages. 
Many  were  the  wounds  and  bruises  received  that  day, 
and  not  a  few  bones  were  broken,  but  happily  no  lives 
were  lost. 

"Now,  lads,  now's  our  time.  A  bold  and  fearless 
look's  the  best  at  all  times.  Don't  look  as  if  ye  doubted 
their  friendship ;  and  mind,  wot  ever  ye  do,  don't  use 
yer  arms.     Follow  me." 

Saying  this,  Joe  Blunt  leaped  on  his  horse,  and 
bounding  over  the  ridge  at  full  speed,  galloped  headlong 
across  the  plain. 

The  savages  observed  the  strangers  instantly,  and  a 
loud  yell  announced  the  fact  as  they  assembled  from 
all  parts  of  the  field  brandishing  their  bows  and  spears. 
Joe's  quick  eye  soon  distinguished  their  chief,  towards 
whom  he  galloped,  still  at  full  speed,  till  within  a  yard 
or  two  of  his  horse's  head  ;  then  he  reined  up  suddenly. 
So  rapidly  did  Joe  and  his  comrades  approach,  and  so 
instantaneously  did  they  pull  up,  that  their  steeds  were 
thrown  almost  on  their  haunches. 

The  Indian  chief  did  not  move  a  muscle.  He  was 
a  tall  powerful  savage,  almost  naked,  and  mounted  on 
a  coal-black  charger,  which  he  sat  with  the  ease  of  a 
man  accustomed  to  ride  from  infancy.  He  was,  indeed, 
a  splendid-looking  savage,  but  his  f-Ace  wore  a  dark 
frown,  for,  although  he  and  his  band  had  visited  the 

9* 


il! 


I    il 


102 


MATTERS    LOOK    GLOOMY. 


it    I 


li 


settlements  and  trafficked  with  the  fur  traaerson  the 

Missouri,  he  did  not  love  the  "Pale-faces,"  whom  he 
regarded  as  intruders  on  the  hunting-grounds  of  his 
fathers,  and  the  peace  that  existed  between  them  at 
that  time  was  of  a  very  fragile  character.  Indeed,  it 
was  deemed  by  the  traders  impossible  to  travel  through 
the  Indian  country  at  that  period  except  in  strong  force, 
and  it  was  the  very  boldness  of  the  present  attempt  that 
secured  to  our  hunters  any  thing  like  a  civil  reception. 

Joe,  who  could  speak  the  Pawnee  tongue  fluently, 
began  by  explaining  the  object  of  his  visit,  and  spoke 
of  the  presents  which  he  had  brought  for  the  great 
chief;  but  it  was  evident  that  his  words  made  little 
impression.  As  he  discoursed  to  them  the  savages 
crowded  round  the  little  party,  and  began  to  handle  and 
examine  their  dresses  and  weapons  with  a  degree  of  rude- 
ness that  caused  Joe  considerable  anxiety. 

"  Mahtawa  believes  that  the  heart  of  the  Pale-face  ia 
true,"  said  the  savage,  when  Joe  paused,  "  but  he  does 
not  choose  to  make  peace.  The  Pale-faces  are  grasping. 
They  never  rest.  They  turn  their  eyes  to  the  great 
mountains,  and  say  '  There  we  will  stop.*  But  even 
there  they  will  not  stop.  They  are  never  satisfied, 
Mahtawa  knows  them  well." 

This  speech  sank  like  a  deatli-knell  into  the  hearts  of 
the  hunters,  for  they  knew  that  if  the  savages  refused  to 
make  peace,  they  would  scalp  them  all  and  appropriate 


j& 


THE   INDIAN    CHIEF. 


103 


their  goods.  To  make  things  worse,  a  dark-visaged 
Indian  suddenly  caught  hold  of  Henri's  rifle,  and,  ere 
he  was  aware,  plucked  it  from  his  hand.  The  blood 
rushed  to  the  gigantic  hunter's  forehead,  and  he  was  on 
the  point  of  springing  at  the  man,  when  Joe  said  in  a 
deep,  quiet  voice,  — 

"  Be  still,  Henri.     You  will  but  hasten  death." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  movement  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  circle  of  horsemen,  and  another  chief  rode 
into  the  midst  of  them.  He  was  evidently  higher  in 
rank  than  Mahtawa,  for  he  spoke  authoritatively  to  the 
crowd,  and  stepped  in  before  him.  The  hunters  drew 
little  comfort  from  the  appearance  of  his  face,  however, 
for  it  scowled  upon  them.  He  was  not  so  powerful  a 
man  as  Mahtawa,  but  he  was  more  gracefully  formed, 
and  had  c  'nore  noble  and  commanding  countenance. 

"  Have  the  Pale-faces  no  wigwams  on  the  great  river 
that  they  should  come  to  spy  out  the  lands  of  the  Paw- 
nee ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  We  have  not  come  to  spy  your  country,"  answered 
Joe,  raising  himself  proudly  as  he  spoke,  and  taking  off 
his  cap.  We  have  come  with  a  message  from  the  great 
chief  of  the  Pale-faces,  who  lives  in  the  village  far 
beyond  the  great  river  where  the  sun  rises.  He  says, 
why  should  the  Pale-face  and  the  Red-man  fight? 
They  are  brothers.     The  same  Manitou  *  watches  over 


i  . 


*  The  Indiau  name  for  God. 


i[il 


104 


THE   INDIAN    CHIEF. 


I 


both.  The  Pale-faces  have  more  beads,  and  guns,  and  , 
blankets,  and  knives,  and  verraillion  than  they  require ; 
they  wish  to  give  some  of  these  things  for  the  skins 
and  furs  which  the  Red-man  does  not  know  what  to  do 
with.  The  great  chief  of  the  Pale-faces  has  sent  me  to 
say, '  Why  should  we  fight  ?  let  us  smoke  the  pipe  of 
peace  ?  *  *' 

At  the  mention  of  beads  and  blankets  the  face  of  the 
wily  chief  brightened  for  a  moment.  Then  he  said, 
sternly,  — 

"  The  heart  of  the  Pale-face  is  not  true.  He  has 
come  here  to  trade  for  himself.  San-it-sa-rish  has  eyes 
that  can  see  —  they  are  not  shut.  Are  not  these  your 
goods  ? "  The  chief  pointed  to  the  pack-horse  as  he 
spoke. 

"  Trappers  do  not  take  their  goods  into  the  heart  of 
an  enemy's  camp,"  returned  Joe ;  "  San-it-sa-rish  is 
wise  and  will  understand  this.  These  are  gifts  to  the 
chief  of  the  Pawnees.  There  are  more  awaiting  him 
when  the  pipe  of  peace  is  smoked.  I  have  said, — What 
message  shall  we  take  back  to  the  gre^t  chief  of  the 
Pale-faces  ?  " 

San-it-sa-rish  was  evidently  mollified. 
"  The  hunting-field  is  not  the  council  tent,"  he  saidt 
"  The  Pale-faces  will  go  with  us  to  our  village." 

Of  course  Joe  was  too  glad  to  agree  to  this  proposal, 
but  he  now  deemed  it  politic  to  disolav  a  little  firmness. 


I 


THE   INDIAN   CHIEF. 


105 


said, 


"  We  cannot  go  till  our  rifle  is  restored.  It  will  not 
do  to  go  back  and  tell  the  great  chief  of  the  Pale-faces 
that  the  Pawnees  are  thieves." 

The  chief  frowned  angrily. 

"  The  Pawnees  are  true  —  they  are  not  thieves.  They 
choose  to  look  at  the  rifle  of  the  Pale-face.  It  shall  be 
returned." 

The  rifle  was  instantly  restored,  and  then  our  hunters 
rode  off  with  the  Indians  towards  their  camp.  On  the 
way  they  met  hundreds  of  women  and  children  going  to 
the  scene  of  the  great  hunt,  for  it  was  their  special  duty 
to  cut  up  the  meat  and  carry  it  into  camp.  The  men, 
considering  that  they  had  done  quite  enough  in  killing 
it,  returned  to  smoke  and  eat  away  the  fatigues  of  the 
chase. 

As  they  rode  along,  Dick  Varley  observed  that  some 
of  the  "  braves,"  as  Indian  Avarriors  are  styled,  were  eat- 
ing pieces  of  the  bloody  livers  of  the  buffaloes  in  a  raw 
state,  at  which  he  expressed  not  a  little  disgust. 

*'  Ah !  boy ;  you're  green  yet,"  remarked  Joe  Blunt 
in  an  under  tone.  "Mayhap  ye'll  be  <thankful  to  do 
that  same  yerself  some  day." 

"  Well,  I'll  not  refuse  to  try  when  it  is  needful,"  said 
Dick  with  a  laugh,  "meanwhile  I'm  content  to  see  the 
Red-skins  do  it,  Joe  Blunt." 


'-, 


iiJ 


:li 


* 


106 


THE   PAWNEE   VILLAGE. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

Dick  and  his  Friends  visit  the  Indians  and  see  many  Wonders.  — 
Crusoe,  too,  experiences  a  few  Surprises  and  teaches  Indian  Dogs 
a  Lesson. — An  Indian  Dandy.  —  A  Foot-race. 

The  Pawnee  village,  at  which  they  soon  arrived,  was 
situated  in  the  midst  of  a  most  interesting  and  pictur- 
esque scene. 

It  occupied  an  extensive  plain  which  sloped  gently- 
down  to  a  creek,*  whose  winding  course  was  marked 
by  a  broken  line  of  wood,  here  and  there  interspersed 
with  a  fine  clump  of  trees,  between  the  trunks  of  which 
the  blue  waters  of  a  lake  sparkled  in  the  distance. 
Hundreds  of  tents  or  "lodges"  of  buffalo  skins  covered 
the  ground,  and  thousands  of  Indians  j— men,  women, 
and  children  —  moved  about  the  busy  scene.  Some 
were  sitting  in  their  lodges,  lazily  smoking  their  pipes. 
But  these  were  chiefly  old  and  infirm  veterans,  for  all 
the  young  men  had  gone  to  the  hunt  which  we  have 
just  described.  The  women  were  stooping  over  their 
fires,  busily  preparing  maize  and  meat  for  their  hus- 
bands and  brothers,  while  myriads  of  little  brown  and 
naked  cliildren  romped  about  everywhere,  filling  the  air 

*  In  America  small  rivers  or  rivulets  are  termed  "  creeks." 


THE   PAWNEES. 


107 


lore. — 
I  Dogs 

1,  was 
»ictur- 

gently 
larked 
persed 
which 
tance. 
)vered 
omen, 
Some 
sipes.  - 
or  all 
have 
their 
hus- 
n  and 
le  air 


with  their  yells  and  screams,  which  were  only  equalled, 
if  not  surpassed,  by  the  yelping  dogs  that  seemed  innu- 
merable. 

Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  were  seen  scattered  herds 
of  horses.  These  were  tended  by  little  boys  who  were 
totally  destitute  of  clothing,  and  who  seemed  to  enjoy 
with  infinite  zest  the  pastime  of  shooting-practice  with 
little  bows  and  arrows.  No  wonder  that  these  Indians 
become  expert  bowmen.  There  were  urchins  there, 
scarce  two  feet  high,  with  round  bullets  of  bodies  and 
short  spindle-shanks,  who  could  knock  blackbirds  off 
the  trees  at  every  shot,  and  cut  the  heads  off  the  taller 
flowers  with  perfect  certainty!  There  was  much 
need,  ioo,  for  the  utmost  proficiency  they  could  at- 
tain, for  the  very  existence  of  the  Indian  tribes  of  the 
prairies  depends  on  their  success  in  hunting  the 
buffalo. 

There  are  lundreds  and  thousands  of  North  American 
savages  who  would  undoubtedly  perish  and  their  tribes 
became  extinct  if  the  buffaloes  were  to  leave  the  prairies 
or  die  out.  Yet,  although  animals  are  absolutely  essen- 
tial to  their  existence,  they  pursue  and  slay  them  with 
improvident  recklessness,  sometimes  killing  hundreds  of 
them  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  sport,  the  tongues,  and 
the  marrow  bones.  In  the  bloody  hunt  described  in  the 
last  chapter,  however,  the  slaughter  of  so  many  was  not 
v^anton,  because  the  village  that  had  to  be  supplied  with 


108 


THE   CniEP  8   TENT. 


:    »   ^: 


food  was  large,  and,  just  previous  to  the  hunt,  they  had 
been  living  on  somewhat  reduced  allowance.  Even  the 
blackbirds,  shot  by  the  brown-bodied  urchins  before 
mentioned,  had  been  thankfully  put  into  the  pot. 
Thus  precarious  is  the  sui»ply  of  food  among  the  Red- 
men,  who  on  one  day  are  starving,  and  the  next  are 
revelling  in  superabundance. 

But  to  return  to  our  story.  At  one  end  of  this  vil- 
lage the  creek  sprang  over  a  ledge  of  rock  in  a  low  cas- 
cade and  opened  out  into  a  beautiful  lake,  the  bosom  of 
which  was  studded  with  small  islands.  Here  were 
thousands  of  those  smaller  species  of  wild  water-fowl 
which  were  either  too  brave  or  too  foolish  to  be  scared 
away  by  the  noise  of  the  camp.  And  here,  too,  dozens 
of  children  wore  sporting  on  the  beach,  or  paddling 
about  in  their  light  bark  canoes. 

"  Isn't  it  strange,"  remarked  Dick  to  Henri,  as  they 
passed  among  the  tents  towards  the  centre  of  the  vil- 
lage, "  isn't  it  strange  that  them  Injuns  should  be  so 
fond  o'  fightin'  when  they've  got  all  they  can  want  —  a 
fine  country,  lots  o'  buffalo,  an'  as  far  as  I  can  see, 
happy  homes  ?  " 

"  Oui,  it  is  remarkaibel,  vraiment.  Bot  dey  do  more 
love  war  to  peace.     De  loves  to  be  excit-ed,  I  s'pose." 

"  Humph !  One  would  think  the  hunt  we  seed  a. 
little  agone  would  be  excitement  enough.  But,  I  say, 
that  must  be  the  chief's  tent,  by  the  look  o't." 


THE   chief's   tent. 


109 


cy  had 
/en  the 
before 
ic  pot. 
c  Red- 
L'xt  are 

this  vil- 
low  cas- 
jsom  of 
[•6  were 
iter-fowl 
e  scared 
»,  dozens 
saddling 

,  as  they 

the  vil- 

d  be  so 

ant  —  a 

can  see, 

do  more 
pose." 
6  seed  a 
it,  I  say. 


,» 


Dick  was  right;  the  horsemen  pulled  up  and  dis- 
mounted opposite  the  principal  chief's  tent,  which  was 
a  larger  and  more  elegant  structure  than  the  others. 
Meanwhile  an  immense  concourse  of  women,  children, 
and  dogs  gathered  round  the  strangers,  and,  while  the 
latter  yelped  their  dislike  to  white  men,  the  former 
chattered  continuously,  as  they  discussed  the  appear- 
ance of  the  strangers  and  their  errand,  which  latter  soon 
became  known.  An  end  was  put  to  this  by  San-it-sa- 
rish  desiring  the  hunters  to  enter  the  tent,  and  spreading 
a  buffalo  robe  for  them  to  sit  on.  Two  braves  carried 
in  their  packs  and  then  led  away  their  horses. 

All  this  time  Crusoe  had  kept  as  close  as  possible  to 
his  jaster's  side,  feeling  extremely  uncomfortable  in 
the  midst  of  such  a  strange  crowd,  the  more  especially 
that  the  ill-looking  Indian  curs  gave  him  expressive 
looks  of  hatred,  and  exhibited  some  desire  to  rush  upon 
him  in  a  body,  so  that  he  had  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out 
all  round  him.  When,  therefore,  Dick  entered  the  tent 
Crusoe  Endeavored  to  do  so  along  with  him,  but  he  was 
met  by  a  blow  on  the  nose  from  an  old  squaw,  who 
scolded  him  in  a  shrill  voice  and  bade  him  begone. 

Either  our  hero's  knowledge  of  the  Indian  language 
was  insufficient  to  enable  him  to  understand  the  order, 
or  he  had  resolved  not  to  obey  it,  for  instead  of  retreat- 
ing he  drew  a  deep  gurgling  breath,  curled  his  nose, 
and  displayed  a  row  of  teeth  that  caused  the  old  woman 

10 


110  Crusoe's  reception  nx  the  Indian  dogs. 


to  draw  back  in  alarm.  Crusoe's  was  a  forgiving  spirit. 
The  instant  that  opposition  ceased  he  forgot  the  injury, 
and  was  meekly  advancing  when  Dick  held  up  his 
linger. 

"  Go  outside,  pup,  and  wait." 

Crusoe's  tail  drooped ;  with  a  deep  sigh  he  turned 
and  left  the  tent.  He  took  up  a  position  near  the  en- 
trance, however,  and  sat  down  resignedly.  So  meek, 
indeed,  did  the  poor  dog  look,  that  six  mangy-looking 
curs  felt  their  dastardly  hearts  emboldened  to  make  a 
rush  at  him  with  boisterous  yells. 

Crusoe  did  not  rise.  He  did  not  even  condescend  to 
turn  his  head  towards  them,  but  he  looked  at  them  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  dark  eye,  wrinkled  —  very  slightly 
—  the  skin  of  his  nose,  exhibited  two  beautiful  fangs, 
and  gave  utterance  to  a  soft  remark,  that  might  be  de- 
scribed as  quiet,  deep-toned  gargling.  It  wasn't  much, 
but  it  was  more  than  enough  for  the  valiant  six,  who 
paused  and  snarled  violently. 

It  was  a  peculiar  trait  of  Crusoe's  gentle  nattfre,  that, 
the  moment  any  danger  ceased,  he  resumed  his  expres- 
sion of  nonchalant  gravity.  The  expression  on  this 
occasion  was  misunderstood,  however,  and,  as  about 
two  dozen  additional  yelping  dogs  had  joined  the  ranks 
of  the  enemy,  they  advanced  in  close  order  to  the  at- 
tack. 

Crusoe  still  sat  quiet  and  kept  his  head  high,  but  he 


THE   ATTACK. 


Ill 


looked  at  them  again  and  exhibited  four  fangs  for  their 
inspection.  Among  the  pack  there  was  one  Indian  dog 
of  large  size  —  almost  as  large  as  Crusoe  himself — 
which  kept  well  in  the  rear,  and  apparently  urged  the 
lesser  dogs  on.  The  little  dogs  didn't  object,  for  little 
dogs  are  generally  the  most  pugnacious.  At  this  big 
dog  Crusoe  directed  a  pointed  glance,  but  said  nothing. 
Meanwhile  a  particularly  small  and  vicious  cur,  with  a 
mere  rag  of  a  tail,  crept  round  by  the  back  of  the  tent, 
and,  coming  upon  Crusoe  in  r^r,  snapped  at  his  tail 
sharply,  and  then  fled  shrieking  with  terror  and  sur- 
prise, no  doubt,  at  its  own  temerity. 

Crusoe  did  not  bark ;  he  seldom  barked ;  he  usually 
either  said  nothing,  or  gave  utterance  to  a  prolonged 
roar  of  indignation  of  the  most  terrible  character  with 
barks,  as  it  were,  mingled  through  it.  It  somewhat 
resembled  that  peculiar  and  well-known  species  of  thun- 
der, the  prolonged  roll  of  which  is  marked  at  short  inter- 
vals in  its  course  by  cannon-like  cracks.  It  was  a  con- 
tinuous, but,  so  to  speak,  hiotted  roar. 

On  receiving  the  snap,  Crusoe  gave  forth  the  roar 
with  a  majesty  and  power  that  scattered  the  pugnacious 
front  rank  of  the  enemy  to  the  winds.  Those  that  still 
remained,  half  stupefied,  he  leaped  over  with  a  huge 
bound  and  alighted,  fangs  first,  on  the  back  of  the  big 
dog.  There  was  one  hideous  yell,  a  muffled  scramble 
of  an  instant's  duration,  and  the  big  dog  lay  dead  upon 
the  plain  I 


r'f 

'  ^1 

■  J 

^  1 

11 

112 


THE  PAWNEES. 


It  was  an  awful  thing  to  do;  but  Crusoe  evidently 
felt  that  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case  required 
that  an  example  should  be  made  —  and  to  say  truth,  all 
things  considered,  we  cannot  blame  him.  The  news 
mu  .t  have  been  carried  at  once  through  the  canine  por^ 
tion  of  the  camp>  for  Crusoe  was  never  interfered  with 
again  after  that. 

Dick  witnessed  this  little  incident ;  but  he  observed 
that  the  Indian  chief  cared  not  a  straw  about  it,  and  as 
his  dog  returned  quietly  and  sat  down  in  its  old  place, 
he  took  no  notice  of  it  either,  but  continued  to  listen  to 
the  explanations  which  Joe  gave  to  the  chief,  of  the  de- 
sire of  the  Pale-faces  to  be  friends  with  the  Red-men. 

Joe's  eloquence  would  have  done  little  for  hlra  on 
this  occasion  had  his  hands  been  empty ;  but  he  followed 
it  up  by  opening  one  of  his  packs  and  displaying  the 
glittering  contents  before  the  equally  glittering  eyes  of 
the  chief  and  his  squaws. 

"  These,"  said  Joe,  "  are  the  gifts  that  the  great  chief 
of  the  Pale-faces  sends  to  the  great  chief  of  the  Paw- 
nees, and  he  bids  me  say  that  there  are  many  more 
things  in  his  stores  which  will  be  traded  for  skins  with 
the  Red-men,  v  'len  they  visit  him ;  and  he  also  says 
that  if  the  Pawnees  will  not  steal  horses  any  more  from 
the  Pale-faces,  they  shall  receive  gifts  of  knives,  and 
guns,  and  powder,  and  blankets,  every  year." 

"  Wah  !  "  grunted  the  chief;  it  iu  good.  The  great 
chief  is  wise.     We  will  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace." 


THE    PAWNEES. 


118 


The  things  that  afforded  so  much  satisfaction  to 
San-it-sa-rish  were  the  veriest  trifles.  Penny  looking- 
glasses  in  yellow  gilt  tin  frames,  beads  of  various  col- 
ors, needles,  cheap  scissors,  and  knives,  vermillion 
paint,  and  coarse  scarlet  cloth,  etc.  They  were  of 
priceless  value,  however,  in  the  estimation  of  the  sav- 
ages, who  delighted  to  adorn  themselves  with  leggings 
made  from  the  cloth,  beautifully  worked  with  beads  by 
their  own  ingenious  women.  They  were  thankful,  too, 
for  knives  even  of  the  commonest  description,  having 
none  but  bone  ones  of  their  own ;  and  they  gloried  in 
daubing  their  faces  with  intermingled  streaks  of  charcoal 
and  vermillion.  To  gaze  at  their  visages,  when  thus 
treated,  in  the  little  penny  looking-glasses,  is  their  sum- 
mit of  delight ! 

Joe  presented  the  chief  with  a  portion  of  these 
coveted  goods  and  tied  up  tite  remainder.  "We  may 
remark  here,  that  the  only  thing  which  prevented  the 
savages  from  taking  possession  of  the  whole  at  once, 
without  asking  permission,  was  the  promise  of  the 
annual  gifts,  which  they  knew  would  not  be  forthcom.- 
ing  were  any  evil  to  befall  the  deputies  of  the  Pale- 
faces. Nevertheless,  it  cost  them  a  severe  struggle  to 
restrain  their  hands  on  this  occasion,  and  Joe  and  his 
companions  felt  that  they  would  have  to  play  their 
part  well  in  order  to  fullil  their  mission  with  safety  and 
credit. 

10* 


■I 


II 


lU 


AN   INDIAN   DANDT. 


^  i  n 


!  11 


»     S:' 


"The  Pale-faces  may  go  now  and  talk  with  the 
braves,"  said  San-it-sa-rish,  after  carefully  examining 
every  thing  that  was  given  to  him ;  "  a  council  will  be 
called  soon,  and  we  will  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace." 

Accepting  this  permission  to  retire,  the  hunters  im- 
mediately left  the  tent,  and  being  now  at  liberty  to  do 
what  they  pleased,  they  amused  themselves  by  wander- 
ing about  the  village. 

"  He's  a  'cute  chap  that,"  remarked  Joe,  with  a  sar- 
castic smile ;  "  I  don't  feel  quite  easy  about  gettin'  away. 
He'll  bother  the  life  out  o'  us  to  get  all  the  goods  we've 
got,  and,  ye  see,  as  we've  other  tribes  to  visit,  we  must 
give  away  as  little  as  we  can  here." 

"  Ha  !  you  is  right,"  said  Henri ;  "  dat  fellow's  eyes 
twinkle  at  de  knives  and  tings  like  two  stars." 

"Fire-flies,  ye  should  say.  Stars  are  too  soft  an* 
beautiful  to  compare  to  ilhe  eyes  o'  yon  savage,"  said 
Dick,  laughing.  "  I  wish  we  were  well  away  from 
them.     That  rascal  Mahtawa  is  an  ugly  customer." 

"True,  lad,"  returned  Joe;  "had  h^  bin  the  great 
chief  our  scalps  had  bin  dry  in'  in  the  smoke  o'  a  Paw- 
nee wigwam  afore  now.     What  now,  lad  ?  " 

Joe's  question  was  put  in  consequence  of  a  gleeful 
smile  that  overspread  the  countenance  of  Dick  Varley, 
who  replied  by  pointing  to  a  wigwam  towards  which 
they  were  approaJiing. 

"  Oh  !  that's  only  a  dandy,"  exclaimed  Joe.     "  There's 


AN   INDIAN  DANDY. 


115 


lots  o'  them  in  every  injun  camp.    They're  fit  for  uothin' 
but  dress,  poor  contemptible  critters." 

Joe  accompanied  his  remark  with  a  sneer,  for  of  all 
pitiable  objects,  he  regarded  an  unmanly  man  as  the 
most  despicable.  He  consented,  however,  to  sit  down 
on  a  grassy  bank  and  watch  the  proceedings  of  this 
Indian  dandy,  who  had  just  seated  himself  in  front 
of  his  wigwam  for  the  purpose  of  making  his 
toilet. 

He  began  it  by  greasing  his  whole  person  carefully 
and  smoothly  over  with  buffalo-fat,  until  he  shone  like 
a  patent  leather  boot;  then  he  rubbed  himself  almost 
dry,  leaving  the  skin  sleek  and  glossy.  Having  pro- 
ceeded thus  far  he  took  up  a  small  mirror,  a  few  inches 
in  diameter,  which  he  or  some  other  member  of  the 
tribe  must  have  procured  during  one  of  their  few 
excursions  to  the  trading  forts  of  the  Pale-faces,  and 
examined  himself,  as  well  as  he  could,  in  so  limited  a 
space.  Next,  he  took  a  little  vermillion  from  a  small 
parcel  and  rubbed  it  over  his  face  until  it  pre&jnted 
the  somewhat  demoniac  appearance  of  a  fiery  red.  He 
also  drew  a  broad  red  score  along  the  crown  of  his 
head,  which  was  closely  shaved,  with  the  exception  of 
the  usual  tuft  or  scalplock  on  the  top.  This  scalplock 
stood  bristling  straight  up  a  few  inches,  and  then 
curved  over  and  hung  down  his  back  about  two  feet. 
Immense  care  and  attention  was  bestowed  on  this  lock. 


116 


AN   INDIAN  DANDT. 


He  smoothed  it,  greased  it,  and  plaited  it  into  the  form 
of  a  pigtail.  Another  application  was  here  made  to 
the  glass,  and  the  result  was  evidently  satisfactory,  to 
judge  from  the  beaming  smile  that  played  on  his  feat- 
ures. But,  not  content  with  the  general  effect,  he  tried 
the  effect  of  expression  —  frowned  portentously,  scowled 
savagely,  ga;  -d  hiieously,  and  grinned  horribly  a  ghastly 
smile. 

Then  our  dandy  fitted  into  his  ears,  which  were 
bored  in  several  places,  sundry  ornaments,  such  as 
rings,  wampum,  etc.,  and  hung  several  strings  of  beads 
round  his  neck.  Besides  these  he  affixed  one  or  two 
ornaments  to  his  arms,  wrists,  and  ancles,  and  touched 
in  a  few  effects  with  vermillion  on  the  shoulders  and 
breast.  After  this,  and  a  few  more  glances  at  the 
glass,  he  put  on  a  pair  of  beautiful  moccasins,  which, 
besides  being  richly  wrought  with  beads,  were  soft  as 
chamois  leather,  and  fitted  his  feet  like  gloves  ;  a  pair  of 
leggings  of  scarlet  cloth  were  drawn  on,  attached  to  a 
waist-belt,  and  bound  below  the  knee  with  broad  garters 
of  variegated  bead-work. 

It  was  some  time  before  this  Adonis  was  quite  satis- 
fied with  himself.  He  re-touched  the  paint  on  his 
shoulders  several  times,  and  modified  the  glare  of  that 
on  his  wide-mouthed,  high-cheek-boned  visage  before 
he  could  tear  himself  away ;  but  at  last  he  did  so,  and, 


a        „ 


AN  INDIAN  DANDY. 


117 


throwing  a  large  piece  of  scarlet  cloth  over  his  should- 
ers, he  thrust  his  looking-glass  under  his  belt,  and 
proceeded  to  mount  his  palfrey,  which  was  held  in 
readiness  near  to  the  tent  door  by  one  of  his  wives. 
The  horse  was  really  a  fine  animal,  and  seemed  worthy 
of  a  more  warlike  master.  His  shoulders,  too,  were 
striped  with  red  paint,  and  feathers  were  intertwined 
with  his  mane  and  tail,  while  the  bridle  was  decorated 
with  various  jingling  ornaments. 

Vaulting  upon  his  steed,  with  a  large  fan  of  wild- 
goose  and  turkey  feathers  in  one  hand,  and  a  whip 
dangling  at  the  wrist  of  the  other,  this  incomparable 
dandy  saUied  forth  for  a  promenade  —  that  being  his 
chief  delight  when  there  was  no  buffalo  hunting  to  be 
done.  Other  men  who  were  not  dandies  sharpened 
their  knives,  smoked,  feasted,  and  mended  their  spears 
and  arrows  at  such  seasons  of  leisure,  or  played  at 
athletic  games. 

"  Let's  follow  my  buck,"  said  Joe  Blunt. 

"Oui.  Come  'long,"  replied  Henri,  striding  after 
the  rider  at  a  pace  that  almost  compelled  his  comrades 
to  run. 

"  Hold  on ! "  cried  Dick,  laughing ;  "  we  don't  want 
to  keep  him  company.  A  distant  view  is  quite  enough 
o'  sich  a  chap  as  that." 

"  Mais,  you  forgit,  I  cannot  see  far." 


ill 


i 


i 


I 


118 


INDIAN   GAMES. 


"So  much  the  better,"  remarked  Joe;  "it's  my 
opinion  we've  seen  enough  o'  him.  Ah !  he's  goin'  to 
look  on  at  the  games.     Them's  worth  lookin'  at." 

The  games  to  which  Joe  referred  were  taking  place 
on  a  green  level  plain  close  to  the  creek,  and  a  little 
above  the  waterfall  before  referred  to.  Some  of  the 
Indians  were  horse-racing,  some  jumping,  and  others 
wrestling ;  but  the  game  which  proved  most  attractive 
was  throwing  the  javelin,  in  which  several  of  the  young 
braves  were  engaged. 

This  game  is  played  by  two  competitors,  each  armed 
with  a  dart,  in  an  arena  about  fifty  yards  long.  One 
of  tiie  players  has  a  hoop  of  six  inches  in  diameter. 
At  a  signal  they  start  off  on  foot  at  full  speed,  and  on 
reaching  the  middle  of  the  arena  the  Indian  with  the 
hoop  rolls  it  along  before  them,  and  each  does  his  best 
to  send  a  javelin  through  the  hoop  before  the  other. 
He  who  succeeds  counts  so  many  points  —  if  both  miss, 
the  nearest  to  the  hoop  is  allowed  to  count,  but  not  so 
much  as  if  he  had  "  ringed  "  it.  The  Indians  are  very 
fond  of  this  game,  and  will  play  at  it  under  a  broiling 
sun  for  hours  together.  But  a  good  deal  of  the  inter- 
est attaching  to  it  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  make 
it  a  means  of  gambling.  Indians  are  inveterate  gam- 
blers, and  will  sometimes  go  on  until  they  lose  horses, 
bows,  blankets,  robes,  and,  in  short,  their  whole  per- 


INDIAN   GAMES. 


119 


Bonal  property.  The  consequences  are,  as  might  be 
expected,  that  fierce  and  bloody  quarrels  sometimes 
arise  in  which  life  is  often  lost. 

"  Try  your  hand  at  that,"  said  Henri  to  Dick. 

"  By  all  means,"  cried  Dick,  handing  his  rifie  to  hL 
friend,  and  springing  into  the  ring  enthusiastically. 

A  general  shout  of  applause  greeted  the  Pale-face, 
who  threw  off  his  coat  and  tightened  his  belt,  while  a 
young  Indian  presented  him  with  a  dart. 

"  Now,  see  that  ye  do  us  credit,  lad,"  said  Joe. 

"  I'll  try,"  answered  Dick. 

In  a  moment  ihey  were  off.  The  young  Indian  rolled 
away  the  hoop,  and  Dick  threw  his  dart  with  such  vigor 
that  it  went  deep  into  the  ground,  but  missed  the*  hoop 
by  a  foot  at  least.  The  young  Indian's  first  dart  went 
through  the  centre. 

"  Ha ! "  exclaimed  Joe  Blunt  to  the  Indians  near  him, 
"the  lad's  not  used  to  that  game,  iry  him  at  a  race. 
Bring  out  you  best  brave  —  he  who's  bound  is  like  the 
hunted  deer." 

We  need  scarcely  remind  the  reader  that  Joe  spoke 
in  the  Indian  language,  and  that  the  above  is  a  correct 
rendering  of  the  sense  of  what  he  said. 

The  name  of  Tarwicadia,  or  the  little  chief,  immedi- 
ately passed  from  lip  to  lip,  and  in  a  few  minutes  an 
Indian,  a  little  below  the  me  lium  size,  bounded  into  the 


120 


THE   RACE. 


■  ,( 


arena  with  an  India-rubber-like  elasticity  that  caused  a 
shade  of  anxiety  to  pass  over  Joe's  face. 

"  Ah,  boy  ! "  he  whispered,  "  Fm  afeared  you'll  find 
him  a  tough  customer." 

"  That's  just  what  I  want,"  replied  Dick.  "  He's  sup- 
ple enough,  but  he  wants  muscle  in  the  thigh.  We'll 
make  it  a  long  heat." 

"  Right,  lad,  yer  right." 

Joe  now  proceeded  to  arrange  the  conditions  of  the 
race  with  the  chiefs  around  him.  It  was  fixed  that  the 
distance  to  be  run  should  be  a  mile,  so  that  the  race 
would  be  one  of  two  miles,  out  and  back.  Moreover, 
the  competitors  were  to  run  without  any  clothes,  except 
a  belt  and  a  small  piece  of  cloth  round  the  loins.  This 
to  the  Indians  was  nothing,  for  they  seldom  wore  more 
in  warm  weather,  but  Dick  would  have  preferred  to 
keep  on  part  of  his  dress.  The  laws  of  the  course,  how- 
ever, would  not  permit  of  this,  so  he  stripped  and  stood 
forth,  the  beau-ideal  of  a  well-formed,  agile  man.  He 
was  greatly  superior  in  size  to  his  antagonist,  and  more 
muscular,  the  savage  being  slender  and  extremely  lithe 
and  springy. 

"  Hah !  I  will  run  too,"  shouted  Henri,  bouncing  for- 
ward with  clumsy  energy,  and  throwing  off  his  coat  just 
as  they  were  going  to  start. 

The  savages  smiled  at  this  unexpected  burst  and 
made  no  objection,  considering  the  thing  in  the  light  of 
a  joke. 


THE  RACE. 


121 


just 


The  signal  was  given,  and  away  they  went.  Oh !  it 
would  have  done  you  good  to  have  seen  the  way  in 
which  Henri  manoeuvred  his  limbs  on  this  celebrated 
occasion !  He  went  over  the  ground  with  huge  ele- 
phantine bounds,  runs,  and  jumps.  He  could  not  have 
been  said  to  have  one  style  of  running ;  he  had  a  dozen 
styles,  all  of  which  came  into  play  in  the  course  of  half 
as  many  minutes.  The  other  two  ran  like  the  wind ; 
yet,  although  Henri  appeared  to  be  going  heavily  over 
the  ground,  he  kept  up  with  them  to  the  turning  point. 
As  for  Dick,  it  became  evident  in  the  first  few  minutes 
that  he  could  outstrip  his  antagonist  with  ease,  and 
was  hanging  back  a  little  all  the  time.  He  shot  ahead 
like  an  arrow  when  they  came  about  half  way  back, 
and  it  was  clear  that  the  real  interest  of  the  race  was 
to  lie  in  the  competition  between  Henri  and  Tarwi- 
cadia. 

Before  they  were  two  thirds  of  the  way  back,  Dick 
walked  in  to  the  winning  point,  and  turned  to  watch 
the  others.  Henri's  wind  was  about  gone,  for  he  ex- 
erted himself  with  such  violence  that  he  wasted  half 
his  strength.  The  Indian,  on  the  contrary,  was  com- 
paratively fresh,  but  he  was  not  so  fleet  as  his  an- 
tagonist, whose  tremendous  strides  carried  him  over 
the  ground  at  an  incredible  pace.  On  they  came  neck 
and  neck,  till  close  on  the  score  that  marked  the  win- 
ning-point.    Here  the  value  of  enthusiasm  came  out 

11 


11 


I 


M 


122 


THE   RACE. 


strongly  in  the  case  of  Henri.  He  felt  that  he  could 
not  gain  an  inch  on  Tarwicadia  to  save  his  life;  but, 
just  as  he  came  up,  he  observed  the  anxious  faces  of  his 
comrades  and  the  half-sneering  countenances  of  the  sav- 
ages. His  heart  thumped  against  his  ribs,  every  mus- 
cle thrilled  with  a  gush  of  conflicting  feelings,  and  he 
hurled  himself  over  the  score  like  a  cannon  shot,  full 
six  inches  ahead  of  the  little  chief! 

But  the  thing  did  not  by  any  means  end  here.  Tar- 
wicadia pulled  up  the  instant  he  had  passed.  Not 
80  our  Canadian.  Such  a  clumsy  and  colossal  frame 
was  not  to  be  checked  in  a  moment.  The  crowd  of 
Indians  opened  up  to  let  him  pass,  but  unfortunately  a 
small  tent  that  stood  in  the  way  was  not  so  obliging. 
Into  it  he  went,  head  foremost,  like  a  shell,  carried  away 
the  corner  post  with  his  shoulder,  and  brought  the 
whole  affair  down  about  his  own  ears,  and  those  of  its 
inmates,  among  whom  were  several  children,  and  two 
or  three  dogs.  It  required  some  time  to  extricate  them 
all  from  the  ruins,  but  when  this  was  effected,  it  was 
found  that  no  serious  damage  had  been  done  to  life  or 
limb  I 


1 


WAMPUM. 


123 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Crusoe  acts  a  Conspicuous  and  Humane  Part.  — A  Friend 
gained.  —  A  Great  Feast. 

When  the  foot-race  was  concluded,  the  three  hunters 
hung  about,  looking  on  at  the  various  games  for  some 
time,  and  then  strolled  towards  the  lake. 

"Ye  may  be  thankful  yer  neck's  whole,"  said  Joe, 
grinning,  as  Henri  rubbed  his  shoulder  with  a  rueful  look. 
"An'  we'll  have  to  send  that  Injun  and  his  family  a 
knife  and  some  beads  to  make  up  for  the  fright  they 
got." 

"  Hah !  an'  fat  is  to  be  give  to  me  for  my  broke 
shoulder?" 

"  Credit,  man,  credit,"  said  Dick  Varley,  laughing. 

"Credit!  fatisdat?" 

"Honor  and  glory,  lad,  and  the  praises  of  them 
savages." 

"  Ha !  de  praise  ?  more  probeebale  de  ill  vill  of  de 
rascale.     I  seed  dem  scowl  at  me  not  vcr'  pritty." 

"  That's  true,  Henri,  but  sich  as  it  is  it's  all  ye'll  git." 

" I  vish,"  remarked  Henri  after  a  pause  —  "I  vish  I 


124 


THE   ACCIDENT. 


could  git  (le  vampum  belt  do  leetle  chief  had  on.  It 
vas  superb.     Fat  place  do  vampums  come  from  ?  " 

"They're  shells  —  " 

"Oui,"  interrupted  Henri.  "I  know  fat  de  is.  Dey 
is  shells,  and  de  Injuns  tink  dem  goot  monish ;  mais, 
I  ask  you  fat  place  de  come  from." 

"  They  are  thought  to  be  gathered  on  the  shores  o' 
the  Pacific,"  said  Joe ;  "  tiie  Injuns  on  the  west  o'  the 
Rocky  Mountains  picks  them  up  and  exchanges  them 
wi'  the  fellows  hereaway  for  horses  and  skins  — so  I'm 
told." 

At  this  moment  tlieie  was  a  wild  cry  of  terror  heard 
a  short  distance  ahead  of  them.  Rushing  forward  they 
observed  an  Indian  woman  flying  frantically  down  the 
river's  bank  towards  the  waterfall,  a  hundred  yards 
above  which  an  object  was  seen  struggliiig  in  the  water. 

"  'Tis  her  child,"  cried  Joe,  as  the  mother's  frantic  cry 
reached  his  ear.  It'll  be  over  the  fall  in  a  minute  I 
Run,  Dick,  you're  quickest." 

They  had  all  started  forward  at  speed,  but  Dick  and 
Crusoe  were  far  ahead,  and  abreast  of  the  spot  in  a  few 
seconds. 

"  Save  it,  pup,"  cried  Dick,  pointing  to  the  child 
which  had  been  caught  in  an  eddy,  and  was  for  a  few 
moments  hovering  on  the  edge  of  the  stream  that  rushed 
impetuously  towards  the  fall. 

The  noble  Newfoundland  did  not  require  to  be  told 


bid 


. ,  ,j^-  •fit 


" 


124 


vrCIDENT. 


COulrT 


i;u!jvi 


'    "    '    leetle  rh  o^      ^' 

j.nace  do  vain  puma  coaws  i; 

n-upte*!  Henri,    "I  know /a/ u< 
de  Injuns  tink  dem  goot  monifci: 

<  de  come  f'roin/'    • 

1  i>U4dit  to  be  gathf'red  on  the  shores  o' 

ihl  Jon :  "  *he  Tnjuns  on  the  west  o'  the 

rn  7!,>  jin(]  exchanges  them 

■ynd  skins — so  I'm 


u 


<] 


■    ■:■:} 
ihcy 

woman  liying  franticoilv  tl 
i*3  bank  towards  'h     waterfall,  a  hundred   yards 
above  wbielx  an  object  was  sw^n  stroggli»ig  in  the  v,  jiter. 
-  'TIs  }"!'¥  child,"  cried  Jo  ^  niuther's  frantic  err 

•>  lii'hf^'^  Tt'l]  hf>  ovor  tlt.e  fall  in  a  mi? 

■    '   ■     '      .    ....,1 


':c-   child 
>aH  for  ft  few 


Th 


ie  noi 


be  told 


toUi 


r 


M 


CRUSOE   A   FRIEim    IN   NEED. 


125 


what  to  do.  It  seems  a  natural  instinct  in  this  saga- 
cious species  of  dog  to  save  man  or  beast  thai  chances  to 
be  struggling  in  the  water,  and  many  are  the  ;:iuthentic 
stories  related  of  Newfoundland  dogs  saving  life  in  cases 
of  shipwreck.  Indeed,  they  are  regularly  trained  to  the 
work  in  some  countries,  and  nobly,  fearlessly,  disinter- 
estedly, do  they  discharge  their  trust,  often  in  the  midst 
of  appalling  dangers.  Crusoe  sprang  from  the  bank 
with  such  impetus  that  his  broad  chest  ploughed  up  the 
water  like  the  bow  of  a  boat,  and  the  energetic  workings 
of  his  muscles  were  indicated  by  the  force  of  each  suc- 
cessive propulsion  as  he  shot  ahead. 

In  a  few  seconds  he  reached  the  child  and  caught  it 
by  the  hair.  Then  he  turned  to  swim  back,  but  the 
stream  had  got  hold  of  him.  Bravely  he  struggled,  and 
lifted  the  child  breast-high  out  of  the  water  in  his  pow- 
erful efforts  to  stem  the  current.  In  vain.  Each  mo- 
ment he  was  carried  inch  by  inch  down  until  he  was  on 
the  brink  of  the  fall,  which,  though  not  high,  was  a  large 
fcody  of  water,  and  fell  with  a  heavy  roar.  He  raised 
himself  high  out  of  the  stream,  with  the  vigor  of  his  last 
struggle,  and  then  fell  back  into  the  abyss. 

By  this  time  the  poor  mother  was  in  a  canoe  as  close 
to  the  fall  as  she  could  with  safety  approach,  and  the 
little  bark  danced  like  a  cockle  shell  on  the  turmoil  of 
waters  as  she  stood  with  uplifted  paddle  and  staring  eye- 
balls awaiting  the  rising  of  the  child. 

11* 


126 


THE   RESCUE. 


J 


I  jji       li 


Crusoe  came  up  almost  instantly,  but  alone,  for  the 
dash  over  the  fall  had  wrenched  the  child  from  his  teeth. 
He  raised  himself  high  up  and  looked  anxiously  round 
for  a  moment.  Then  he  caught  sight  of  a  little  hand 
raised  above  the  boilinj  flood.  In  one  moment  he  had 
the  child  again  by  the  hair,  and,  just  as  the  prow  of  the 
Indian  woman's  canoe  touched  the  shore,  he  brought  the 
child  to  land. 

Springing  towards  him,  the  mother  snatched  her  child 
from  the  flood  and  gazed  at  its  death-like  face  with  eye- 
balls starting  from  their  sockets  ;  then  she  laid  her  cheek 
on  its  cold  breast  and  stood  like  a  statue  of  despair. 
There  was  one  slight  pulsation  of  the  heart  and  a  gentle 
motion  of  the  hand !  The  child  still  lived.  Opening 
up  her  blanket  she  laid  her  little  one  against  her  naked 
warm  bosom,  drew  the  covering  close  around  it,  and, 
sitting  down  on  the  bank,  wept  aloud  for  joy. 

"  Come,  —  come  'way  quick,"  cried  Henri,  hurrying 
off  to  hide  the  emotion  which  he  could  not  crush  down. 

"  Ay,  she  don't  need  our  help  now,"  said  Joe,  follow- 
ing his  comrade. 

As  for  Crusoe,  he  walked  along  by  his  master's  side 
with  his  usual  quiet,  serene  look  of  good-will  towards  all 
mankind.  Doubtless  a  feeling  of  gladness  at  having 
saved  a  human  life  filled  his  shaggy  breast,  for  he  wagged 
his  tail  gently,  after  each  shake  of  his  dripping  sides, 
but  his  meek  eyes  were  downcast,  save  when  raised  to 


DIFFICULTIES    AND    FEARS. 


127 


receive  the  welcome  and  unusually  fervent  caress.    Cru 
6oe  did  not  know  that  those  three  men  loved  him  as 
though  he  had  been  a  brother. 

On  their  way  back  to  the  village  the  hunters  were 
met  by  a  little  boy,  who  said  that  a  council  was  to  be 
held  immediately,  and  their  presence  was  requested. 

The  council  was  held  in  the  tent  of  the  principal 
chief,  towards  which  all  the  other  chiefs  and  many  of 
the  noted  braves  hurried.  Like  all  Indian  councils,  it 
was  preceded  by  smoking  the  "  medicine  pipe,"  and  was 
followed  by  speeches  from  several  of  the  best  orators. 
The  substance  of  the  discourse  differed  little  from  what 
has  been  already  related  in  reference  to  the  treaty  be- 
tween the  Pale-faces,  and  upon  the  whole  it  was  satifac- 
tory.  But  Joe  Blunt  could  not  fail  to  notice  that  Mah- 
tawa  maintained  sullen  silence  during  the  whole  course 
of  the  meeting. 

He  observed,  also,  that  there  was  a  considerable  change 
in  the  tone  of  the  meeting  when  he  informed  them  that 
he  was  bound  on  a  similar  errand  of  peace  to  several  of 
the  other  tribes,  especially  to  one  or  two  tribes  which 
were  the  Pawnees'  bitter  enemies  at  that  time.  These 
grasping  savages  having  quite  made  up  their  mind? 
that  they  were  to  obtain  the  entire  contents  of  the  two 
bales  of  goods,  were  much  mortified  on  hearing  that 

s 

part  was  to  go  to  other  Indian  tribes.     Some  of  them 
even  hmted  that  this  would  not  be  allowed,  and  Joe 


128 


THE  INDIAN  FEAST. 


feared  at  one  time  that  things  were  going  to  take  an 
unfavorable  turn.  The  hair  of  his  scalp,  as  he  after- 
wards said,  "began  to  lift  a  little  and  feel  oneasy." 
But  San-it-sa-rish  stood  honestly  to  his  word ;  said  that 
it  would  be  well  that  the  Pale-faces  and  the  Pawnees 
should  be  brothers,  and  hoped  that  they  would  not  for- 
get the  promise  of  annual  presents  from  the  hand  of  the 
great  chief  who  lived  in  the  big  village  near  the  rising  sun. 

Having  settled  this  matter  amicably,  Joe  distributed 
among  the  Indians  the  proportion  of  his  goods  designed 
for  them,  and  then  they  all  adjourned  to  another  tent 
wh6re  a  great  feast  was  prepared  for  them. 

"Are  ye  hungry?"  inquired  Joe  of  Dick  as  they 
walked  along. 

"  Ay,  that  am  I.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  eat  a  buflfalo 
alive.  Why,  it's  my  'pinion  we've  tasted  nothin'  since 
daybreak  this  mornin'." 

"  Well,  Pve  often  told  ye  that  them  Red-skins  think  it 
a  disgrace  to  give  in  eatin'  till  all  that's  set  before  them 
at  a  feast  is  bolted.    We'll  ha'  to  stretch  oursel's  we  will." 

"  I'se  got  a  plenty  room,"  remarked  Henri. 

"  Ye  have,  but  ye'U  wish  ye  had  more  in  a  little." 

"  Bien,  I  not  care ! " 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  all  the  guests  invited  to  this 
great  medicine  feast  were  assembled.  No  women  were 
admitted.     They  never  are  at  Indian  feasts. 

We  may  remark  in  passing,  that  the  word  "medi- 


THE   rS'UIAN   PiiAST. 


129 


cine,"  as  used  among  the  North  American  Indians,  has 
a  very  much  wider  signification  than  it  has  with  us. 
It  is  an  almost  inexplicable  word.  When  asked,  they 
cannot  give  a  full  or  satisfactory  explanation  of  it  them- 
selves. In  the  general,  we  may  say  that  whatever  is 
mysterious  is  "  medicine."  Jugglery  and  conjuring,  of 
a  noisy,  mysterious,  and,  we  must  add,  rather  silly 
nature,  is  "  medicine,"  and  the  juggler  is  a  "  medicine 
man."  These  medicine  men  undertake  cures,  but  they 
are  regular  charlatans,  and  know  nothing  whatever  of 
the  diseases  they  pretend  to  cure,  or  their  remedies. 
They  carry  bags  containing  sundry  relics ;  these  are 
"medicine  bags."  Every  brave  has  his  own  private 
medicine  bag.  Every  thing  that  is  incomprehensible  or 
supposed  to  be  supernatural,  religious,  or  medical,  is 
"  medicine."  This  feast,  being  an  unusual  one,  in  honor 
of  strangers,  and  in  connection  with  a  peculiar  and  unex- 
pected event,  was  "  medicine."  Even  Crusoe,  since  his 
gallant  conduct  in  saving  the  Indian  child,  was  "  medi- 
cine ; "  and  Dick  Varley's  double-barrelled  rifle,  which 
had  been  an  object  of  wonder  ever  since  his  arrival  at 
the  village,  was  tremendous  "medicine  !" 

Of  course  the  Indians  were  arrayed  in  their  best;  ' 
several  wore  necklaces  of  the  claws  of  the  grizzly  bear, 
of  which  they  are  extremely  proud ;  and  a  gaudily  pic- 
turesque group  they  were.     The  chief,  however,  had 
undergone  a  transformation   that   wellnigh   upset   the 


m 


180 


THE   INDIAN  FEAST. 


Hi       • 

I    . 

f  : 
1  ' 
1    I 


gravity  of  our  hunters,  and  rendered  Dick's  efforts  to 
look  solemn  quite  abortive.  San-it-sa-rish  had  once 
been  to  the  trading  forts  of  the  Pale-faces,  and  while 
there  had  received  the  customary  gift  of  a  blue  surtout 
with  brass  buttons,  and  an  ordinary  hat,  such  as  gentle- 
men wear  at  home.  As  the  coat  was  a  good  deal  too 
small  for  him,  a  terrible  length  of  dark,  bony  wrist  ap- 
peared below  the  cuffs.  The  waist  was  too  high,  and  it 
was  with  great  difficulty  that  he  managed  to  button  the 
garment  across  his  broad  chest.  Being  ignorant  of  the 
nature  of  a  hat,  the  worthy  savage  had  allowed  the 
paper  and  string  with  which  it  had  been  originally  cov- 
ered, to  remain  on,  supposing  them  to  be  part  and  par- 
cel of  the  hat ;  and  this,  together  with  the  high  collar 
of  the  coat,  which  gave  him  a  crushed-up  appearance, 
the  long  black  naked  legs,  and  the  painted  visage,  gave 
to  him  a  tout  ensemble  which  we  can  compare  to  noth- 
ing, as  there  was  nothing  in  nature  comparable  to  it. 

Those  guests  who  assembled  first  passed  their  time 
in  smoking  the  medicine-pipe  until  the  others  should  ar- 
rive ;  for  so  long  as  a  single  invited  guest  is  absent,  the 
feast  cannot  begin.  Dignified  silence  was  maintained 
while  the  pipe  thus  circulated  from  hand  to  hand.  When 
the  last  guest  arrived  they  began. 

The  men  were  seated  in  two  rows,  face  to  face. 
Feasts  of  this  kind  usually  consist  of  but  one  species  of 
food,  and  on  the  present  occasion  it  was  an  enormous 


THE   INDIAN   FEAST. 


131 


cauldron  full  of  maize  which  had  to  be  devoured. 
About  fifty  sat  down  to  eat  a  quantity  of  what  may  be 
termed  thick  porridge,  that  would  have  been  ample  al- 
lowance for  a  hundred  ordinary  men.  Before  com- 
mencing, San-it-sa-rish  desired  an  aged  medicine  man 
to  make  an  oration,  which  he  did  fluently  and  poetically. 
Its  subject  was  the  praise  of  the  giver  of  the  feast.  At 
the  end  of  each  period  there  was  a  general  "  Hou  I 
hou ! "  of  assent  —  equivalent  to  the  hear !  hear !  of  civ- 
ilized men. 

Other  orators  then  followed,  all  of  whom  spoke  with 
great  ease  and  fluency,  and  some  in  the  most  impas- 
sioned strains,  Avorking  themselves  and  their  audience 
up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  now  shouting 
with  frenzied  violence  till  their  eyes  glared  from  their 
sockets,  and  the  veins  of  their  foreheads  swelled  almost 
to  bursting  as  they  spoke  of  war  and  chase  —  anon 
breaking  into  soft  modulated  and  pleasing  tones,  while 
they  dilated  upon  the  pleasures  of  peace  and  hospital- 
ity. 

After  these  had  finished,  a  number  of  wooden  bowls 
full  of  maize  porridge  were  put  down  between  the 
guests  —  one  bowl  to  each  couple  facing  each  other. 
But  before  commencing,  a  portion  was  laid  aside  and 
dedicated  to  their  gods,  with  various  mysterious  cere- 
monies; for  here,  as  in  other  places,  where  the  gos- 
pel is  not  known,  the  poor  savages  fancied  that  they 


132 


THE   INDIAN  FEAST. 


M 


could  propitiate  God  with  sacrifices.  They  had  never 
heard  of  the  "  sacrifice  of*  a  broken  spirit  and  a  contrite 
heart."  This  offering  being  made,  the  feast  began  in 
earnest.  Not  only  was  it  a  rule  in  this  feast  that  every 
mouthful  should  be  swallowed  by  each  guesi,  however 
unwilling  and  unable  he  should  be  to  do  so,  but  he 
who  could  dispose  of  it  with  greatest  speed  was  deemed 
the  greatest  man  —  at  least  on  that  occasion  —  while  the 
last  to  conclude  his  supper  was  looked  upon  with  some 
degree  of  contempt ! 

It  seems  strange  that  such  a  custom  should  ever 
have  arisen,  and  one  is  not  a  little  puzzled  in  endeav- 
oring to  guess  at  the  origin  of  it.  There  is  one  fact 
that  occurs  to  us  as  the  probable  cause.  The  Indian  is, 
as  we  have  before  hinted,  frequently  reduced  to  a  state 
bordering  on  starvation,  and  in  a  day  after,  he  may  be 
burdened  with  superabundance  of  food.  He  oftentimes, 
therefore,  eats  as  much  as  he  can  stuff  into  his  body 
when  he  is  blessed  with  plenty,  so  as  to  be  the  better 
able  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  hunger  that  may  pos- 
sibly be  in  store  for  him.  The  amount  that  an  Indian 
will  thus  eat  at  a  single  meal  is  incredible.  He  seems 
to  have  the  power  of  distending  himself  for  the  reception 
of  a  quantity  that  would  kill  a  civilized  man.  Children, 
in  particular,  become  like  tightly  inflated  little  balloons 
after  a  ^aast,  and  as  they  wear  no  clothing,  the  extra- 
ordinary rotundity  is  very  obvious,  not  to  say  ridiculous. 


THE   INDIAN   FEAST. 


133 


s 


We  conclude,  therefore,  that  unusual  powers  of  gor- 
mandizing, being  useful,  come  at  last  to  be  cultivated  as 
praiseworthy. 

By  good  fortune  Dick  and  Joe  Blunt  happened  to 
have  such  enormous  gluttons  as  vis-a-vis,  that  the  por- 
tions of  their  respective  bowls  which  they  could  not  de- 
vour were  gobbled  up  for  them.  By  good  capacity  and 
digestion,  with  no  small  amount  of  effort,  Henri  man- 
aged to  dispose  of  his  own  share  ;  but  he  was  last  of 
being  done,  and  fell  in  the  savages'  esteem  greatly. 
The  way  in  which  that  sticky  compost  of  boiled  maize 
went  down  was  absolutely  amazing.  The  man  opposite 
Dick,  in  particular,  was  a  human  boa-constrictor.  He 
well  nigh  suffocated  Dick  with  suppressed  laughter. 
He  was  a  great  raw-boned  savage,  with  a  throat  of  India- 
rubber,  and  went  quickly  and  quietly  on  swallowing 
mass  after  mass,  with  the  solemn  gravity  of  an  owl.  It 
mattered  not  a  straw  to  him  that  Dick  took  compara- 
tively small  mouthfuls,  and  nearly  choked  on  them  too 
for  want  of  liquid  to  wash  them  down.  Had  Dick 
eaten  none  at  all  he  would  have  uncomplainingly  dis- 
posed of  the  whole.  Jack  the  Giant-Killer's  feats  were 
nothing  to  his,  and  when  at  last  the  bowl  was  empty,  he 
stopped  short  like  a  machine  from  which  the  steam  had 
been  suddenly  cut  off,  and  laid  down  his  buffalo  horn- 
spoon  without  a  sigh. 

la 


134 


HOWLING   DOaS. 


/ 


i:    I 


Hi 


■$S' 


Dick  sighod,  though  with  relief  and  gratitude  when 
his  bowl  was  empty. 

"  I  hope  I  may  never  have  to  do  it  again,"  said  Joe 
that  night  as  they  vv(  l  their  way  back  to  the  chief's 
tent  after  supper.  "  1  wouldn't  be  fit  for  any  thing  for 
a  week  arter  it." 

Dick  could  only  laugh,  for  any  allusion  to  the  feast 
Instantly  brought  back  that  owl-like  gourmand  to  whom 
he  was  so  deeply  indebicu. 

Henri  groaned.  "  Oh  !  mes  boy,  I  am  speechless  I 
I  am  ready  for  bust !  Oui,  —  Ilah  !  I  veesh  it  vas  to- 
morrow." 

Many  a  time  that  r^Gjht  did  Henri  "veesh  it  vas  to- 
morrow," as  he  la  ipless  on  his  back,  looking  up 
through  the  roof  of  ttio  chief's  tent  at  the  stars,  and  lis- 
tening enviously  to  the  plethoric  snoring  of  Joe  Blunt. 

He  was  entertained,  however,  during  those  waking 
hours  with  a  serenade  such  as  few  civilized  ears  ever 
■  listen  to.  This  was  nothing  else  than  a  vocal  concert 
performed  by  all  the  dogs  of  the  village,  and  as  they 
amounted  to  nearly  two  thousand,  the  orchestra  was  a 
pretty  full  one. 

These  wretches  howled  as  if  they  had  all  gone  mad. 
Yet  there  was  "method  in  their  madness,"  for  they 
congregated  in  a  crowd  before  begiiming,  and  sat  down 
on  their  haunches.     Then  one,  which  seemed  to*  be  the 


HOWLING   D008. 


185 


conductor,  raised  his  snout  to  the  sky,  and  uttered  a 
long,  low,  iitelancholy  wail.  The  others  took  it  up  by 
twos  and  threes,  until  the  whole  pack  had  their  noses 
pointing  to  the  stars,  and  their  throats  distended  to  the 
uttermost,  while  a  prolotiged  yell  filled  the  air.  Then 
it  sank  gradually,  one  or  two  (bud  performers  probably) 
making  a  yelping  attempt  to  get  it  up  again  at  the 
wrong  time.  Again  the  conductor  raised  his  nose,  and 
out  it  came  —  full  swing.  There  was  no  vociferous 
barking.  It  was  simple  wolfish  howling  increased  in 
fervor  to  an  electric  yell,  with  slight  barks  running  con- 
tinuously through  it  like  an  obligato  accompaniment 

"When  Crusoe  first  heard  the  unwonted  sound  he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  bristled  up  like  a  hyena,  showed  all 
his  teeth,  and  bounded  out  of  the  tent  blazing  with  in- 
dignation and  astonishment.  When  he  found  out  what 
it  was,  he  returned  quite  sleek,  and  with  a  look  of  pro- 
found contempt  on  his  countenance  as  he  resumed  his 
place  by  his  master's  side  and  went  to  sleep. 


,'as  a 


I  mad. 
they 
Idown 
ke  the 


;                 M 

Mil.     .^ 

136 


PERPLEXITIES. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Perplexities.  —  Our  Hunters  Plan  their  Escape.  — Unexpectel  Inter- 
ruption. —  The  Tables  turned.  —  Crusoe  mounts  Guard.  —  The  Es- 
cape. 

Dick  Varley  sat  before  the  fire  ruminating-  We 
do  not  mean  to  assert  that  Dick  had  been  previously 
eating  grass.  By  no  means.  For  several  days  past  he 
had  been  mentally  subsisting  on  the  remarkable  things 
that  he  heard  and  saw  in  the  Pawnee  village,  and  won- 
dering how  he  was  to  get  away  without  being  scalped ; 
he  was  now  chewing  the  cud  of  this  intellectual  fare. 
We  therefore  repeat  emphatically  —  in  case  any  reader 
should  have  presumed  to  contradict  us  —  that  Dick 
Varley  sat  before  the  fire  ru?ninating  / 

Joe  Blunt  likewise  sat  by  the  fire  along  with  him, 
ruminating  too,  and  smoking  besides.  Henri  also  sat 
there  smoking,  and  looking  a  little  the  worse  of  his  late 
supper. 

"  I  don't  like  the  look  o'  things,"  said  Joe,  blowing  a 
whiff  of  smoke  slowly  from  his  lips,  and  watching  if. 
as  it  ascended  into  the  still  air.  "That  blackguard 
Mahtawa  is  determined  not  to  let  us  off  till  he  gits  all 


THE    MYSTERIOUS    RIFLE. 


137 


llnter- 
fhe  Es- 


,    We 

viously 

past  he 

i  things 

jd  won- 

icalped ; 
al  fore, 
reader 
t   Dick 

Ith  him, 
ilso  sat 
I  his  late 

)wing  a 
3hing  it. 
jkguard 

gits  all 


our  goods,  an'  if  he  gits  them,  he  may  as  well  take  our 
scalps  too,  for  we  would  come  poor  speed  in  the  prairies 
without  guns,  horses,  or  goods." 

Dick  looked  at  his  friend  with  an  expression  of  con- 
cern.    "  What's  to  be  done  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Ve  must  escape,"  answered  Henri ;  but  his  tone 
was  not  a  hopeful  one,  for  he  knew  the  danger  of  their 
position  better  than  Dick. 

"  Ay,  we  must  escape  ;  at  least  we  must  try  ;  "  said 
Joe,  "  but  I'll  make  one  more  effort  to  smoothe  over 
San-it-sa-rish,  an'  git  him  to  snub  that  villain  Mahtawa." 

Just  as  he  spoke  the  villian  in  question  entered  the 
tent  with  a  bold,  haughty  air,  and  sat  down  before  the 
fire  in  sullen  silence.  For  some  minutes  no  one  spoke, 
and  Henri,  who  happened  at  the  time  to  be  examining 
the  locks  of  Dick's  rifle,  continued  to  inspect  them  with 
an  appearance  of  careless  indifference  that  he  was  far 
from  feeling. 

Now,  this  rifle  of  Dick's  had  become  a  source  of 
unceasing  wonder  to  the  Indians,  —  wonder  which  was 
greatly  increased  by  the  fact  that  no  one  could  dis- 
charge it  but  himself.  Dick  had,  during  his  short  stay 
at  the  Pawnee  village,  amused  himself  and  the  savages 
by  exhibiting  bis  marvellous  powers  with  the  "  silver 
rifle."  Since  it  had  been  won  by  him  at  the  memorable 
match  in  the  Mustang  Valley,  it  had  scarce  ever  been 
out  of  his  hand,  sc  that  he  had  become  decidedly  the 


-  1., 


J         ; 


138 


MAHTAWA. 


1  t 


I  ; 


M 


.1. 


best  shot  in  the  settlement,  could  "bark"  squirrels 
(that  is,  hit  the  bark  of  the  branch  on  which  a  squirrel 
happened  to  be  standing,  and  so  kill  it  by  the  concus- 
sion alone),  and  could  "drive  the  nail"  every  shot 
The  silver  rifle,  as  we  have  said,  became  "  great  medi- 
cine "  to  the  Red-men,  when  they  saw  it  kill  at  a  dis- 
tance which  the  few  wretched  guns  they  had  obtained 
from  the  fur  traders  could  not  even  send  a  spent  ball 
to.  The  double  shot,  too,  filled  them  with  wonder  and 
admiration;  but  that  which  they  regarded  with  an 
almost  supernatural  feeling  of  curiosity  was  the  percus- 
sion cap,  which,  in  Dick's  hands,  always  exploded,  but 
in  theirs  was  utterly  useless ! 

This  result  was  simply  owing  to  the  fact,  that  Dick 
after  firing  handed  the  rifle  to  the  Indians  without 
renewing  the  cap.  So  that  when  they  loaded  and 
attempted  to  fire,  of  course  it  merely  snapped.  When 
he  wished  again  to  fire,  he  adroitly  exchanged  the  old 
cap  for  a  new  one.  He  was  immensely  tickled  by  the 
solemn  looks  of  the  Indians  at  this  most  incomprehen- 
sible of  all  "  medicines,"  and  kept  them  for  some  days 
in  ignorance  of  the  true  cause,  intending  to  reveal  it 
before  he  left.  But  circumstances  now  arose  which 
banished  all  trifling  thoughts  from  his  mind. 

Mahtawa  raised  his  head  suddenly,  and  said,  pointing 
to  the  silver  rifle,  "  Mahtawa  wishes  to  have  the  two- 
shotted  medicine  gun.  He  will  give  his  best  horse  in 
exchange." 


MAHTAWA. 


139 


"  Mahtawa  is  liberal,"  answered  Joe,  "  but  the  pale- 
faced  youth  cannot  part  with  it.  He  has  far  to  travel, 
and  must  shoot  buffaloes  by  the  way." 

"  The  pale-faced  youth  shall  have  a  bow  and  arrows 
to  shoot  the  buffalo,"  rejoined  the  Indian. 

"  He  cannot  use  the  bow  and  arrow,"  answered  Joe  ; 
"  he  has  not  been  trained  like  the  Red-man." 

Mahtawa  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  and  his 
dark  brows  frowned  more  heavily  than  ever  over  his 
eyes. 

"  The  Pale-faces  are  too  bold,"  he  exclaimed,  working 
himself  into  a  passion ;  "  they  are  in  the  power  of 
Mahtawa.  Jf  they  will  not  give  the  gun  he  will  take 
it," 

He  sprang  suddenly  to  his  feet  as  he  spoke,  and 
snatched  the  rifle  from  Henri's  hand. 

Henri  being  ignorant  of  the  language,  had  not  been 
able  to  understand  the  foregoing  conversation,  although 
he  saw  well  enough  that  it  was  not  an  agreeable  one, 
but  no  sooner  did  he  find  himself  thus  rudely  and  unex- 
pectedly deprived  of  the  rifle,  than  he  jumped  up, 
wrenched  it  in  a  twinkling  from  the  Indian's  grasp,  and 
hurled  him  violently  out  of  the  tent. 

In  a  moment  Mahtawa  drew  his  knife,  uttered  a  sav- 
age yell,  and  sprang  on  the  reckless  hunter,  who,  how- 
ever, caught  his  wrist,  and  held  it  as  if  in  a  vice.  The 
yell  brought  a  dozen  warriors  instantly  to  the  spot,  and 


140 


THE    BRAWL. 


t  '     ■: 
t-        '■' 


before  Dick  had  time  to  recover  from  his  astonishment, 
Henri  was  surrounded  and  pinioned  despite  his  Hercu- 
lean struggles. 

Before  Dick  could  move,  Joe  Blunt  grasped  his  arm, 
and  whispered  quickly,  "  Don't  rise  !  You  can't  help 
him !     They  daren't  kill  him  till  San-it-sa-rish  agrees." 

Though  much  surprised,  Dick  obeyed,  but  it  required 
all  his  efforts,  both  of  voice  and  hand,  to  control  Cru- 
soe, whose  mind  was  much  too  honest  and  straight- 
forward to  understand  such  subtle  pieces  of  diplomacy, 
and  who  strove  to  rush  to  the  ^-escue  of  his  ill-used 
friend. 

When  the  tumult  had  partly  subsided,  Joe  Blunt 
rose  and  said :  — 

"  Have  the  Pawnee  braves  turned  traitors  that  they 
draw  the  knife  against  those  who  have  smoked  with 
them  the  pipe  of  peace  and  eaten  their  maize  ?  The 
Pale-faces  are  three ;  the  Pawnees  are  thousands.  If 
evil  has  been  done,  let  it  be  laid  before  the  chief. 
Mahtawa  wislies  to  have  the  medicine  gun.  Although 
we  said  No,  we  could  not  part  with  it,  he  tried  to  take 
it  by  force.  Are  we  to  go  back  to  the  great  chief  of 
the  Pale-faces,  and  say  that  the  Pawnees  are  thieves  ? 
Are  the  Pale-faces  henceforth  to  tell  their  children  when 
they  steal,  '  That  is  bad ;  that  is  like  the  Pawnee  ? " 
No !  this  must  not  be.  The  rifle  shall  be  restored,  and 
we  will  forget  this  disagreement.    Is  it  not  so  ?  " 


THE    BRAWL. 


141 


I' 


There  was  an  evident  disposition  on  the  part  of 
many  of  the  Indians,  with  whom  Mahtawa  was  no  fa- 
vorite, to  applaud  this  speech ;  but  the  wily  chief  sprang 
forward,  and,  with  flashing  eye,  sought  to  turn  the  ta- 
bles. 

"  The  Pale-face  speaks  with  soft  words,  but  his  heart 
is  false.  Is  he  not  going  to  make  peace  with  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Pawnee  ?  Is  he  not  going  to  take  goods  to 
them,  and  make  them  gifts  and  promises  ?  The  Pale- 
faces are  spies.  They  come  to  see  the  weakness  of  the 
Pawnee  camp,  but  they  have  found  that  it  is  strong. 
Shall  we  suffer  the  false-hearts  to  escape  ?  Shall  they 
live  ?  No !  we  will  hang  their  scalps  in  our  wigwams, 
for  they  have  struck  a  chief,  and  we  will  keep  all  their 
goods  for  our  squaws  —  wah ! " 

This  allusion  to  keeping  all  the  goods  had  more  effect 
on  the  minds  of  the  vacillating  savages  than  the  chief's 
eloquence.  But  a  new  turn  was  given  to  their  thoughts 
by  Joe  Blunt  remarking  in  a  quiet,  almost  contemptuous 
tone : — 

'*  Mahtawa  is  not  the  great  chief." 

"  True,  true,"  they  cried,  and  immediately  hurried  to 
the  tent  of  San-it-sa-rish. 

Once  again  this  chief  stood  between  the  hunters  and 
the  savages,  who  wanted  but  a  signal  to  fall  ou  them. 
There  was  a  long  palaver,  which  ended  in  Henri  being 
set  at  liberty,  and  the  rifle  being  restored. 


I 


142 


CRITICAL    MOMENTS. 


l-i 


III 


;  i 


I 


That  evening,  as  the  three  friends  sat  beside  their  fire 
eating  their  supper  of  boiled  maize  and  buffalo  meat, 
they  laughed  and  talked. as  carelessly  as  ever;  but  the 
gaiety  was  assumed,  for  they  were  at  the  time  planning 
their  escape  from  a  tribe  which,  they  foresaw,  would  not 
long  refrain  from  carrying  out  their  wishes,  and  robbing, 
perhaps  murdering  them. 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Joe,  with  a  perplexed  air,  while  he 
drew  a  piece  of  live  charcoal  from  the  fire  with  his  fin- 
gers, and  lighted  his  pipe,  —  "  ye  see,  there's  more  difii- 
^  culties  in  the  way  o'  gettin'  off  than  ye  think " 

"  Oh  !  nivare  mind  de  difficulties,"  interrupted  Henri, 
whose  wrath  at  the  treatment  he  had  received  had  not 
yet  cooled  down.  "  Ve  must  jump  on  de  best  horses 
ve  can  git  hold,  shake  our  fist  at  de  red  reptiles,  and 
go  away  fast  as  ve  can.  De  best  boss  must  vin  de 
race." 

Joe  shook  his  head.  "A  hundred  arrows  would  be 
in  our  backs  before  we  got  twenty  yards  from  the  camp. 
Besides,  we  can't  tell  which  are  the  best  horses.  Our 
own  are  the  best  in  my  'pinion,  but  how  are  we  to  git 
'em?" 

*'  I  know  who  has  charge  o'  them,"  said  Dick ;  "  I 
saw  them  grazing  near  the  tent  o'  that  poor  squaw 
whose  baby  was  saved  by  Crusoe.  Either  her  husband 
looks  after  them  or  some  neighbors." 

"  That's  well,"  said  Joe.  "  That's  one  o'  my  diffi- 
•culties  gone." 


1 


PLANS    OF    ESCAPE. 


143 


"What  are  the  others?" 

"  Well,  d'ye  see,  they're  troublesome.  We  can't  git 
the  horses  out  o'  camp  without  bein'  seen,  for  the  red 
rascals  would  see  what  we  were  at  in  a  jifFy.  Then,  if 
we  do  git  'em  out,  we  can't  go  off  without  our  bales, 
an'  we  needn't  think  to  take  'em  from  under  the  nose 
o'  the  chief  and  his  squaws  without  bein'  axed  ques- 
tions. To  go  off  without  them  would  niver  do  at 
all." 

"  Joe,"  said  Dick,  'earnestly,  "  I've  hit  on  a  plan." 

"  Have  ye,  Dich,  what  is't  ?  " 

"Come  and  111  let  ye  see,"  answered  Dick,  rising 
hastily  and  quitting  tlie  tent,  followed  by  his  comrades 
and  his  faithful  dog. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  remark  here,  that  no  restraint 
whatever  had  yet  been  put  on  the  movements  of  our 
hunters  as  long  as  they  kept  to  their  legs,  for  it  was 
well  known  that  any  attempt  by  men  on  foot  to  escape 
from  mounted  Indians  on  the  plains  would  be  hopeless. 
]\f  oreover,  the  savages  thought  that  as  long  as  there  was 
a  prospect  of  their  being  allowed  to  depart  peaceably 
with  their  goods,  they  would  not  be  so  mad  as  to  fly 
from  the  camp,  and,  by  so  doing,  risk  their  lives  and 
declare  war  with  their  entertainers.  They  had,  there- 
fore, been  permitted  to  wander  unchecked,  as  yet,  far 
beyoiid  the  outskirts  of  the  camp,  .^nd  amuse  themselves 
in  paddling  about  the  lake  in  the  small  Indian  canoes 
and  shooting  wild-fowl. 


li 


I 


r  ['!> 


i! 


144 


PLANS   OF   ESCAPE. 


Dick  now  led  the  way  through  the  labyrinths  of 
tents  in  the  direction  of  the  lake,  and  they  talked  and 
laughed  loudly,  and  whistled  to  Crusoe  as  they  went, 
in  order  to  prevent  their  purpose  being  suspected.  For 
the  purpose  of  further  disarming  suspicion  they  went 
without  their  rifles.  Dick  explained  his  plan  by  the  way, 
and  it  was  at  once  warmly  approved  of  by  his  comrades. 

On  reaching  the  lake  they  launched  a  small  canoe, 
into  which  Crusoe  was  ordered  to  jump;  then,  em- 
barking, they  paddled  swiftly  to  the  opposite  shore,  sing- 
ing a  canoe  song  as  they  dipped  their  paddles  in  the 
moonlit  waters  of  the  lake.  Arrived  at  the  other  side, 
they  hauled  the  canoe  up  and  hurried  through  the  thin 
belt  of  wood  and  willows  that  intervened  between  the 
lake  and  the  prairie.     Here  they  paused. 

"Is  that  the  bluff,  Joe?" 

"  No,  Dick,  that's  too  near.  'Tother  one  '11  be  best. 
Far  away  to  the  right.  It's  a  little  one,  and  there's 
others  near  it.  The  sharp  eyes  o'  the  Red-skins  won't 
be  so  likely  to  be  prowlin'  there." 

"  Come  on,  then ;  but  we'll  have  to  take  down  by  the 
lake  first." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  hunters  were  threading  their 
way  through  the  outskirts  of  the  wood  at  a  rapid  trot, 
in  the  opposite  direction  from  the  bluff,  or  wooded 
knoll,  which  they  wished  to  reach.  This  they  did  lest 
prying  eyes  should  have  followed  them.    In  quarter  of 


PLANS    OF   ESCAPE. 


145 


an  hour  they  turned  at  right  angles  to  their  track,  and 
struck  straight  out  into  the  prairie,  and  after  a  long  run 
they  edged  round  and  came  in  upon  the  bluflf  from 
behind.  It  was  merely  a  collection  of  stunted,  but 
thick-growing  willows. 

Forcing  their  way  into  the  centre  of  this  they  began . 
to  examine  it. 
'  "It'll  do,"  said  Joe. 

"  De  very  ting,"  remarked  Henri. 

"  Come  here,  Crusoe." 

Crusoe  bounded  to  his  master's  side,  and  looked  up  in 
his  face. 

"  Look  at  this  place,  pup ;  smell  it  well." 

Crusoe  instpntly  set  off  all  round  among  the  willows, 
in  and  out,  snuffing  everywhere,  and  whining  with  excite- 
ment. 

"  Come  here,  good  pup ;  that  will  do.  Now,  lads, 
we'll  go  back."  So  saying,  Dick  and  his  friends  left  the 
bluff  and  retraced  their  steps  to  the  camp.  Before  they 
had  gone  far,  however,  Joe  halted,  and  said, — 

"  D'ye  .know,  Dick,  I  doubt  if  the  pup's  so  cliver  as 
ye  think.     What  if  he  don't  quite  onderstand  ye  ?  " 

Dick  replied  by  taking  off  his  cap  and  throwing  it 
down,  at  the  same  time  exclaiming,  "  Take  it  yonder, 
pup,"  and  pointing  with  his  hand  towards  the  bluff. 
The  dog  seized  the  cap,  and  went  off  with  it  at  full 
speed  towards  the  willows,  where  it  left  it,  and  came 

la 


i' 


8f  — 


■ 


:■    'f ' 


lA« 


146 


PLANS    OF   ESCAPE. 


galloping  back  for  the  expected  reward  —  not  now,  as  in 
days  of  old,  a  bit  of  meat,  but  —  a  gentle  stroke  of  its 
head  and  a  hearty  clap  on  its  shaggy  side. 

"  Good  pup,  go  now  an*  fetch  it." 
'    Away  he  went  with  a  bound,  and,  in  a  few  seconds, 
came   back    and   deposited    the    cap   at   his    master's 
feet. 

"  Will  that  do  ?  "  asked  Dick,  triumphantly. 

"  Ay,  lad,  it  will.  The  pup's  worth  its  weight  in 
goold." 

"  Oui,  I  have  said,  and  I  say  it  agen,  de  dog  is  hit' 
man,  so  him  is.     If  not  —  fat  am  he  ?  " 

Witliout  pausing  to  reply  to  this  perplexing  question, 
Dick  stepped  forward  again,  and  in  half  an  hour  or  so 
they  were  back  in  the  camp. 

"  Now  for  your  part  of  the  work,  Joe  ;  yonder's  the 
squaw  that  owns  the  half-drowned  baby.  Every  thing 
depends  on  her." 

Dick  pointed  to  the  Indian  woman  as  he  spoke.  She 
was  sitting  beside  her  tent,  and,  playing  at  her  knee, 
was  the  identical  youngster  who  had  been  saved  by 
Crusoe. 

"  I'll  manage  it,"  said  Joe,  and  walked  towards  her, 
while  Dick  and  Henri  returned  to  the  chief's  tent. 

"Does  the  Pawnee  woman  thank  the  Great  Spirit 
that  her  child  is  saved  ?  "  began  Joe,  as  he  came  up. 
-  "She  does,"   answered  the  woman,  looking  up  at 


▲    FBIEND. 


147 


the 
thing 

She 
knee, 
red  by 

rds  her, 
\t. 


the  hunter.     "And  her  heart  is  warm  to  the  Pale- 
faces." 

After  a  short  silence  Joe  continued  — 

"The  Pawnee  chiefs  do  not  love  the  Pale-faces. 
Some  of  them  hate  them."  * 

"  The  Dark  Flower  knows  it,"  answered  the  woman ; 
"she  is  sorry.  She  would  help  the  Pale-faces  if  she 
could." 

This  was  uttered  in  a  low  tone,  and  with  a  meaning 
glance  of  the  eye. 

Joe  hesitated  again  —  could  he  trust  her  ?  Yes  ;  the 
feelings  that  filled  her  breast  and  prompted  her  words 
were  not  those  of  the  Indian  just  now  —  they  were 
those  of  a  mother,  whose  gratitude  was  too  full  for  utter- 
ance. . 

"Will  the  Dark  Flower,"  scid  Joe,  catching  the 
name  she  had  given  herself,  "  help  the  Pale-face  if  he 
opens  his  heart  to  her  ?  Will  she  risk  the  anger  of  her 
nation  ?  " 

"  She  will,"  replied  the  woman ;  "  she  will  do  what 
she  can." 

Joe  and  his  dark  friend  now  dropped  their  high- 
sounding  style  of  speech,  and  spoke  for  some  minutes 
rapidly  in  an  under  tone.  It  was  finally  arranged  that 
on  a  given  day,  at  a  certain  hour,  the  woman  should 
take  the  four  horses  down  the  shores  of  the  lake  to 


\i 


I 


w 


r.; 


148 


PREPARATIONS. 


\  - 


its  lower  end,  as  if  she  were  going  for  fire-wood,  there 
cross  the  creek  at  the  ford,  and  drive  them  to  the 
willow  bluff,  and  guard  them  till  the  hunters  should  ar- 
rive. 

Having  settled  this,  Joe  returned  to  the  tent  and  in- 
formed his  comrades  of  his  success. 

During  the  next  three  days  Joe  kept  the  Indians 
in  good  humor,  by  giving  them  one  or  two  trinkets,  and 
sneaking  in  glowing  terms  of  the  riches  of  the  whit6 
LMXi,  and  the  readiness  with  which  they  would  part 
with  them  to  the  savages  if  they  would  only  make 
peace. 

Meanwhile,  during  the  dark  hours  of  each  night 
Dick  managed  to  abstract  small  quantities  of  goods 
from  their  pack,  in  room  of  which  he  stuffed  in  pieces 
of  leather  to  keep  up  the  size  and  appearance.  The 
goods  thus  taken  out  he  concealed  about  his  person,  and 
went  off  with  a  careless  swagger  to  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  with  Crusoe  at  his  heels.  Arrived  there,  he 
tied  the  goods  in  a  small  pif-e  of  deerskin,  and  gave  the 
bundle  to  the  dog,  with  ti'  injunction,  "  Take  it  yonder, 
pup." 

Cru^  *"  ce,  darted  off  at  full  speed 

with  '  louth,  down  the  shore  of  the 

lak'  ids  th'     uid  oi  the  river,  and  was  soon  lost  to 

view.     In  thi    way,  little  by  little,  the  goods  were  con- 


PRKPARATIONS. 


U9 


veyed  by  the  faithful  dog  to  the  willow  bluff  and  left 
there,  while  the  stuffed  puck  still  remained  in  safe  keep- 
ing in  the  chief's  tent. 

Joe  did  not  at  first  like  the  idea  of  thus  sneaking  off 
from  the  camp ;  and  more  than  once  made  strong  efforts 
to  induce  San-it-sa-rish  to  lot  him  go,  but  even  that 
chief's  countenance  was  not  so  favorable  as  it  had  been. 
It  was  clear  that  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  let 
slip  so  good  a  chance  of  obtaining  guns,  powder,  and 
shot,  horses  and  goods,  without  any  trouble ;  so  Joe 
made  up  his  mind  to  give  them  the  slip  at  once. 

A  dark  night  was  chosen  for  the  attempt,  and  the 
Indian  woman  went  off  with  the  horses  to  the  place 
where  firewood  for  the  camp  was  usually  cut.  Unfor- 
tunately the  suspicion  of  that  wily  savage  Mahtawa  had 
been  awakened,  and  he  stuck  close  to  the  hunters  all 
day  —  not  knowing  what  was  going  on,  but  feeling  con- 
vinced that  something  was  brewing  which  he  resolved 
to  watch,  without  mentioning  his  suspicions  to  any 
one. 

"I  think  that  villain's  away  at  last,"  whispered  Joe 
to  his  comrades ;  "  it's  time  to  go,  lads,  the  moon  won't 
be  up  for  an  hour.     Come  along." 

"  Have  ye  got  the  big  powder  horn,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  all  right.'* 

"Stop!  stop!  my  knife,  my  couteau.  Ah!  here  it 
be.    Now,  boy." 

13* 


t' 


I 


sr^awsrawtiSmsiW,^!*-'*.***^ 


:,  I 


i 


i. 


\     ' 


150 


AN  UNEXPECTED  INTERRUPTION. 


The  three  set  off  as  usual,  strolling  carelessly  to  the 
outskirts  of  the  camp ;  then  they  quickened  their  pace, 
and,  gaining  the  lake,  pushed  off  in  a  small  canoe. 

At  the  same  moment  Mahtawa  stepped  from  the 
bushes,  leaped  into  another  canoe  and  followed  them. 

"  Hah !  he  must  die,"  muttered  Henri. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Joe,  "we'll  manage  him  without 
that." 

The  chief  landed  and  strode  boldly  up  to  them,  for 
he  knew  weli  that  whatever  their  purpose  might  be, 
they  would  not  venture  to  use  their  rifles  within  sound 
of  the  camp  at  that  hour  of  the  night;  as  for  their 
knives,  he  could  trust  to  his  own  active  limbs  and  the 
woods  to  escape  and  give  the  alarm  if  need  be. 

"  The  Pale-faces  hunt  very  late,"  he  said  with  a  mali- 
cious grin.  "  Do  they  love  the  dark  better  than  the 
sunshine  ?  '* 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Joe,  coolly,  "  but  we  love  to  walk 
by  the  light  of  the  moon.  It  will  be  up  in  Lss  than 
an  hour,  and  we  mean  to  take  a  long  ramble  to- 
night." 

"  The  Pawnee  chief  loves  to  walk  by  the  moon  too, 
he  will  go  with  the  Pale-faces." 

"  Good,"  ejaculated  Joe.     "  Come  along,  then." 

The  party  immediately  set  forward,  although  the 
savage  was  a  little  taken  by  surprise  at  the  indifferent 
•way  u.  which  Joe  received  his  proposal  to  accompany 


I 


MAHTAWA   SEIZED. 


151 


them.    He  walked  on  to  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  how- 
ever, and  then  stopped. 

"  The  Pale-faces  must  go  alone,"  said  he,  "  Mahtawa 
will  return  to  his  tent." 

Joe  replied  to  this  intimation  by  seizing  him  suddenly 
by  the  throat  and  choking  back  the  yell,  that  would 
otherwise  have  brought  the  Pawnee  warriors  rushing  to 
the  scene  of  action  in  hundreds.  Mahtawa's  hand  was 
on  the  handle  of  his  scalping-knife  in  a  moment,  but  be- 
fore he  could  draw  it,  his  arms  were  glued  to  his  sides 
by  the  bear-like  embrace  of  Henri,  while  Dick  tied  a 
handkerchief  quickly  yet  firmly  round  his  mouth.  The 
whole  thing  was  accomplished  in  two  minutes.  After 
taking  his  knife  and  tomahawk  away  they  loosened  their 
gripe  and  escorted  him  swiftly  over  the  prairie. 

Mahtawa  was  perfectly  submissive  after  the  first  con- 
vulsive struggle  was  over.  He  knew  that  the  men  who 
walked  on  each  side  of  him  grasping  his  arms  were 
more  than  ais  match  singly,  so  he  wisely  made  no  re- 
sistance. 

Hurrying  him  to  a  clump  of  small  trees  on  the  plain 
which  was  so  far  distant  from  the  village  that  a  yell 
could  not  be  heard,  they  removed  the  bandage  from 
Mahtawa's  mouth. 

^^Must  he  be  kill?"  inquired  Henri,  in  a  tone  of 
commiseration. 


ii" 


It 


^=1 

■ : 


1^ 


4 


152 


CRUSOE   MOUNTS   GUARD. 


"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Joe,  "  "^"'ll  tie  him  to  a  tree 
and  leave  him  there." 

"  Then  he  vill  be  starve  to  deal'.  Oh !  dat  is  more 
horrobell ! " 

"  He  must  take  his  chance  o'  that.  I've  no  doubt  his 
friends  '11  find  him  in  a  day  or  two,  an'  he's  game  to 
last  for  a  week  or  more.  But  you'll  have  to  run  to  the 
willow-blufF,  Dick,  and  bring  a  bit  of  line  to  tie  him. 
We  can't  spare  it  well ;  but  there's  no  help." 

"  But  there  is  help,"  retorted  Dick.  "  Just  order  the 
villain  to  climb  into  that  tree." 

"Why  so,  lad?" 

"  Don't  ask  questions,  but  do  what  I  bid  ye." 

The  hunter  smiled  for  a  moment  as  he  turned  to 
the  Indian,  and  ordered  him  to  climb  up  a  small  tree 
near  to  which  he  stood.  Mahtawa  looked  surprised, 
but  there  was  no  alternative.  Joe's  authoritative  tone 
brooked  no  delay,  so  he  sprang  into  the  tree  like  a  mon- 
key. 

"  Crusoe,"  said  Dick,  '^ watch  him/" 

The  dog  sat  quietly  down  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and 
fixed  his  eyes  on  the  savage  with  a  glare  that  spoke  un- 
utterable things.  At  the  same  tirae  he  displayed  his 
full  compliment  of  teeth,  and  uttered  a  sound  like  dis- 
tant thunder. 

Joe  almost  laughed,  and  Henri  did  laugh  outright. 


THE   ESCAPE. 


153 


«  Come  along,  he's  safe  now,"  cried  Dick,  hurrying 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  willow-bluff,  which  they 
soon  reached,  and  found  that  the  faithful  squaw  had 
tied  their  steeds  to  the  bushes,  and,  moreover,  had  bun- 
dled up  their  goods  into  a  pack,  and  strapped  it  on  the 
back  of  the  pack-horse ;  but  she  had  not  remained  with 
them. 

«  Bless  yer  dark  face,"  ejaculated  Joe,  as  he  sprang 
into  the  saddle  and  rode  out  of  the  clump  of  bushes. 
He  was  followed  immediately  by  the  others,  and  in 
three  minutes  they  were  flying  over  the  plain  at  full 
speed. 

On  gaining  the  last  far  off  ridge,  that  afforded  a 
distant  view  of  the  woods  skirting  the  Pawnee  camp, 
they  drew  up,  and  Dick,  putting  bis  fingers  to  his  mouth, 
drew  a  long,  shrill  whistle. 

It  reached  the  willow-bluff  like  a  faint  echo.     At  the 

» 

same  moment  the  moon  arose  and  more  clearly  revealed 
Crusoe's  catalyptic  glare  at  the  Indian  chief,  who  being 
utterly  unarmed,  was  at  the  dog's  mercy.  The  instant 
the  whistle  fell  on  his  ear,  however,  he  dropped  his  eyes, 
covered  his  teeth,  and  leaping  through  the  bushes,  flew 
over  the  plains  like  an  arrow.  At  the  same  instant 
Mahtawa,  descending  from  his  tree,  ran  as  fast  as  he 
could  towards  the  village,  uttering  the  terrible  war- 
whoop  when  near  enough  to  be  heard.  No  sound  sends 
such  a  thrill  through  an  Indian  camp.     Every  warrior 


I 


rr 


"^-  w 


154 


THE  ESCAPE. 


i  . 


■- 


flew  to  arms,  and  vaulted  on  his  steed.  So  quickly  was 
the  alarm  given  that  in  less  than  ten  minutes  a  thousand 
hoofs  were  thundering  on  the  plain,  and  faintly  reached 
the  ears  of  the  fugitives. 

Joe  smiled.  "  It'll  puzzle  them  to  come  up  wi'  nags 
like  ours.  They're  in  prime  condition  too,  lots  o'  wind 
in  'em.  If  we  only  keep  out  o'  badger  holes  we  may 
laugh  at  the  red  varmints." 

Joe's  opinion  of  Indian  horses  was  correct.  In  a  very 
few  minutes  the  sound  of  hoofs  died  away,  but  the  fugi- 
tives did  not  draw  bridle  during  the  remainder  of  that 
night,  for  they  knew  not  how  long  the  pursuit  might  be 
continued.  By  pond,  and  brook,  and  bluff  they  passed, 
down  in  the  grassy  bottoms,  and  over  the  prairie 
waves,  —  nor  checked  their  headlong  course  till  the  sun 
blazed  over  the  level  sweep  of  the  eastern  plain  as  if  it 
arose  out  of  the  mighty  ocean. 

Then  they  sprang  from  the  saddle  and  hastily  set 
about  the  preparation  of  their  morning  meal. 


■MM 


BEST. 


155 


CHAPTER  XL 

Evening  Meditations  and  Morning-  Reflections.  —  Buffaloes,  Badgew, 
Antelopes,  and  Accidents.  —  An  old  Bull  and  the  Wolves.  —  "  Mad- 
tails." —  Henri  floored,  etc. 

There  is  nothing  that  prepares  one  so  well  for  the 
enjoyment  of  rest,  both  mental  and  physical,  as  a  long- 
protracted  period  of  excitement  and  anxiety,  followed 
up  by  bodily  fatigue.  Excitement  alone  banishes  rest ; 
but,  united  with  severe  physical  exertion,  it  prepares 
for  it.  At  least,  courteous  reader,  this  is  our  experi- 
ence, and  certainly  this  was  the  experience  of  our  three 
hunters  as  they  lay  on  their  backs  beneath  the  branches 
of  a  willow  bush,  and  gazed  serenely  up  at  the  twink- 
ling stars,  two  days  after  their  escape  from  the  Indian 
village. 

They  spoke  little ;  they  were  too  tired  for  that ;  also, 
they  were  too  comfortable.  Their  respective  suppers 
of  fresh  antelope  steak,  shot  that  day,  had  just  been  dis- 
posed of;  their  feet  were  directed  towards  the  small 
fire  on  which  the  said  steaks  had  been  cooked,  and 
which  still  threw  a  warm,  ruddy  glow  over  the  encamp- 
;  ment.    Their  blankets  were  wrapped  comfortably  round 


* 


mtM 


If 


156 


BEST. 


I     *M 


'! 


them,  and  tucked  in  as  only  hunters  and  mothers  know 
how  to  tuck  them  in.  Their  respective  pipes  delivered 
forth,  at  stated  intervals,  three  richly  yellow  puffs  of 
smoke,  as  if  a  three-gun  battery  were  playing  upon  the 
sky  from  that  particular  spot  of  earth.  The  horses 
were  picketted  an  hobbled  in  a  rich  grassy  bottom  close 
by,  from  which  the  quiet  munch  of  their  equine  jaws 
sounded  pleasantly,  for  it  told  of  healthy  appetites,  and 
promised  speed  on  the  morrow.  The  fear  of  being 
overtaken  during  the  night  was  now  passed,  and  the 
faithful  Crusoe,  by  virtue  of  sight,  hearing,  and  smell, 
guaranteed  them  against  sudden  attack  during  the  hours 
of  slumber.  A  perfume  of  wild  flowers  mingled  with 
the  loved  odors  of  the  "  weed,"  and  the  tinkle  of  a  tiny 
rivulet  fell  sweetly  on  their  ears.  In  short,  the  "  Pale- 
faces "  were  supremely  happy,  and  disposed  to  be  thank- 
ful for  their  recent  deliverance  and  their  present  com- 
forts. 

"  I  wonder  what  the  stars  are,"  said  Dick,  languidly 
taking  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Bits  o'  fire,"  suggested  Joe. 

"  I  tink  dey  are  vorlds,"  muttered  Henri,  "  an'  have 
peepels  in  dem.     I  have  hear  men  say  dat." 

A  long  silence  followed,  during  which,  no  doubt,  the 
star-gazers  were  working  out  various  theories  in  their 
own  minds. 

"  Wonder,"  said  Dick  again,  "  how  far  off  they  be." 


REST. 


167 


now 
ered 
a  of 
a  the 
lorsea 
,  close 
,  jaws 
js,  and 
being 
nd  the 
L  smell, 
,e  hours 
ed  with 
)f  a  tiny 
J  «  pale- 
he  tbank- 


"  A  mile  or  two,  maybe,"  said  Joe. 

Henri  was  about  to  laugh  sarcastically  at  this ;  but, 
on  further  consideration,  he  thought  it  would  be  more 
comfortable  not  to,  so  he  lay  still.  In  another  minute 
he  said,  — 

"  Joe  Blunt,  you  is  ver'  igrant.  Don't  you  know  dat 
de  books  say  de  stars  be  hondreds,  tousands,  —  oh! 
milleryons  of  mile  away  to  here,  and  dat  de  is  more 
bigger  dan  dis  vorld  ?  " 

Joe  snored  lightly,  and  his  pipe  fell  out  of  his  mouth 
at  this  point,  so  the  conversation  dropped.  Presently 
Dick  asked,  in  a  low  tone, "  I  say,  Henri,  are  ye  asleep  ?  " 

"  Oui,"  replied  Henri,  faintly.  "  Don't  speak,  or  you 
vill  vaken  me." 

"  Ah !  Crusoe,  you're  not  asleep,  are  you,  pup  ?  "  No 
need  to  ask  that  question.  The  instantaneous  wag  of 
that  speaking  tail,  and  the  glance  of  that  wakeful  eye, 
as  the  dog  lifted  his  head  and  laid  his  chin  on  Dick's 
arm,  showed  that  he  had  been  listening  to  every  word 
that  was  spoken.  We  cannot  say  whether  he  under- 
stood it,  but  beyond  all  doubt  he  heard  it.  Crusoe  never 
presumed  to  think  of  going  to  sleep  until  his  master 
was  sound  as  a  top ;  then  he  ventured  to  indulge  in 
that  light  species  of  slumber  which  is  familiarly  known 
as  "  sleeping  with  one  eye  open."  But,  comparatively, 
as  well  as  figuratively  speaking,  Crusoe  slept  usually 

14 


■•i 


(     ! 


I 


■CI 


If 


I 

1  f 

I" 


158 


MOKNING. 


li 


;i 


t  i 


.?4f' 


with  one  eye  and  a  half  open,  and  the  other  half  was 
never  very  tightly  shut. 

Gradually  Dick's  pipe  fell  out  of  his  mouth,  an  event 
which  the  dog,  with  an  exercise  of  instinct  almost,  if 
not  quite  amounting  to  reason,  regarded  as  a  signal  for 
him  to  go  off.  The  camp  fire  went  slowly  out,  the  stars 
twinkled  down  at  their  reflections  in  the  brook,  and  a 
deep  breathing  of  wearied  men  was  the  only  sound  that 
rose  in  harmony  with  the  purling  stream. 

Before  the  sun  rose  next  morning,  and  while  many 
of  the  brighter  stars  were  still  struggling  for  existence 
with  the  approaching  day,  Joe  was  up  and  buckling  on 
the  saddle-bags,  while  he  shouted  to  his  unwilling  com- 
panions to  rise. 

"If  it  depended  on  you,"  he  said,  "the  Pawnees 
wouldn't  be  long  afore  they  got  our  scalps.  Jump,  ye 
dogs,  an'  lend  a  hand,  will  ye ! " 

A  snore  from  Dick  and  a  deep  sigh  from  Henri  was 
the  answer  to  this  pathetic  appeal.  It  so  happened, 
however,  that  Henri's  pipe,  in  falling  from  his  lips,  had 
emptied  the  ashes  just  under  his  nose,  so  that  the  sigh 
referiv-d  to  drew  a  quantity  thereof  into  his  throat,  and 
almost  choked  him.  Nothing  could  have  been  a  more 
effective  awakener.  He  was  up  in  a  moment  coughing 
vociferously.  Most  men  have  a  tendency  to  vent  ill- 
humor  on  some  one,  and  they  generally  do  it  on  one 


|l    li: 


BADGER   HOLES. 


159 


whom  they  deeni  to  be  worse  than  themselves.  Henri, 
therefore,  instead  of  growling  at  Joe  for  rousing  liim, 
scolded  Dick  for  not  rising. 

"  Ha,  mauvais  dog !  bad  chien,  vill  you  dare  to  look 
to  me  ?  " 

Crusoe  did  look  with  amiable  placidity,  as  though  to 
say,  "  Howl  away,  old  boy,  I  won't  budge  till  Dick 
does." 

With  a  mighty  effort  Giant  Sleep  was  thrown  off  at 
last,  and  the  hunters  were  once  more  on  their  journey, 
cantering  lightly  over  the  soft  turf. 

'•  Ho !  let's  hav§  a  run,"  cried  Dick,  unable  to  re^ 
press  the  feelings  aroused  by  the  exhilarating  morning 
air. 

"  Have  a  care,  boy,"  cried  Joe,  as  they  stretched  out 
at  full  gallop.  "  Keep  off  the  ridge ;  it's  riddled  wi* 
badger  —     Ht^i !  I  thought  so." 

At  that  moment  Dick's  horse  put  its  foot  into  a  bad- 
ger-hole, and  turned  completely  over,  sending  its  rider 
through  the  air  in  a  curve  that  an  East  Indian  acrobat 
would  have  envied.  For  a  few  seconds  Dick  lay  flat  on 
his  back ;  then  he  jumped  up  and  laughed,  while  his 
comrades  hurried  up  anxiously  to  his  assistance. 

"  No  bones  broke  ?  "  inquired  Joe. 

Dick  gave  a  hysterical  gasp.     "I  —  I  think  not." 

"Let's  have  o  look.  No,  nothin'  to  speak  o',  be 
good  lack.    Yo  should  niver  go  slap  through  a  badger 


1 J 


■J. ,'. 


1;     I 


II' 


M       I 


160 


THE  ANTELOPE    CHASE. 


country  like  that,  boy;  always  keep  i*  the  bottoms, 
where  the  grass  is  short.  Now  then,  up  ye  go.  That's 
it!" 

Dick  remounted,  though  not  with  quite  so  elastic  a 
spring  as  usual,  and  they  pushed  forward  at  a  more  rea- 
sonable pace. 

Accidents  of  this  kind  are  of  common  occurrence  in 
the  prairies.  Some  horses,  however,  are  so  well  trained 
that  they  look  sharp  out  for  these  holes,  which  are  gen- 
erally found  to  be  most  numerous  on  the  high  and  dry 
grounds.  But  in  spite  of  all  the  caution  both  of  man 
and  horse,  many  ugly  falls  take  place,  and  sometimes 
bones  are  broken. 

They  had  not  gone  far  after  this  accident,  when  an 
antelope  leaped  from  a  clump  of  willows  and  made  for 
a  belt  of  woodland  that  lay  along  the  margin  of  a  stream 
not  half  a  mile  off. 

"  Hurrah ! "  cried  Dick,  forgetting  his  recent  fall. 
"  Come  along,  Crusoe."  And  away  they  went  again 
full  tilt,  for  the  horse  had  not  been  injured  by  its  somer- 
sault. =* 

The  antelope  which  Dick  was  thus  wildly  pursuing 
was  of  the  same  species  as  the  one  he  had  shot  some 
time  before,  namely,  the  prong-horned  antelope.  These 
graceful  creatures  have  long,  slender  limbs,  delicately- 
formed  heads,  and  large,  beautiful  eyes.  The  horns 
are  black,  and  rather  short;  they  have  no  branches 


i 


THE   ANTELOPE    CHASE. 


161 


like  the  antlers  of  the  red-deer,  but  have  a  single  pro- 
jection on  each  horn,  near  the  head,  and  the  extreme 
points  of  the  horns  curve  suddenly  inwards,  forming 
the  hook  or  prong  from  which  the  name  of  the  animal 
is  derived.  Their  color  is  dark  yellowish  brown. 
They  are  so  fleet  that  not  one  horse  in  a  hundred 
can  overtake  them,  and  their  sight  and  sense  of  smell 
are  so  acute,  that  it  would  be  next  to  impossible  to 
kill  them,  were  it  not  for  the  inordinate  curiosity 
which  we  have  before  referred  to.  The  Indians  manage 
to  attract  these  simple  little  creatures  by  merely  lying 
down  on  their  backs  and  kicking  their  heels  in  the  air, 
or  by  waving  any  while  object  on  the  point  of  an 
arrow  "'hile  the  hunter  keeps  concealed  by  lying  flat 
in  the  grass.  By  these  means  a  herd  of  antelopes  may 
be  induced  to  wheel  round  and  round  an  object  in 
timid,  but  intense  surprise,  gradually  approaching  until 
they  come  near  enough  to  enable  the  hunter  to  make 
sure  of  his  mark.  Thus  the  animals,  which  of  all  others 
ought  to  be  the  most  difficult  to  slay,  are,  in  consequence 
of  their  insatiable  curiosity,  more  easily  shot  than  any 
other  deer  of  the  plains. 

May  we  not  gently  suggest  to  the  reader  for  his  or 
her  consideration  that  there  are  human  antelopes,  so  to 
speak,  whose  case  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
prong-horn  of  the  North  American  prairie  ? 

Dick's  horse  was  no  match  for  the  antelope ;  neither 

14» 


r     '•    I 


fl^ 


k  t 


$.1.1 1 

I 


!f 


162 


BUFFALOES    SEEN. 


was  Crusoe,  so  they  pulled  up  shortly  and  returned  to 
their  companions  to  be  laughed  at. 

"  It's  no  manner  o*  use  to  wind  yer  horse,  lad,  after 
sich  game.  They're  not  much  worth,  an*  if  I  mistake 
not,  we'll  be  among  the  buffalo  soon.  There's  fresh 
tracks  everywhere,  and  the  herds  are  scattered  now. 
Ye  see,  when  they  keep  together  in  bands  o'  thousands 
ye  don't  so  often  fall  in  wi'  them.  But  when  they  scat- 
ters about  in  twos,  an'  threes,  an'  sixes,  ye  may  shoot 
them  every  day  as  much  as  ye  please." 

Several  groups  of  buffalo  had  already  been  seen  on 
the  horizon ;  but  as  a  red-deer  had  been  shot  in  a  belt 
of  woodland  the  day  before,  they  did  not  pursue  them. 
The  red-deer  is  very  much  larger  than  the  prong-homed 
antelope,  and  is  highly  esteemed  both  for  its  flesh  and 
its  skin,  which  latter  becomes  almost  like  Chamois 
leather  when  dressed.  Notwithstanding  this  supply  of 
food,  the  hunters  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  give 
chase  to  a  herd  of  about  nine  buffaloes  that  suddenly 
came  into  view  as  they  overtopped  an  undulation  in  the 
plain. 

"  It's  no  use,"  cried  Dick,  "  I  must  go  at  them ! " 

Joe  himself  caught  fire  from  the  spirit  of  his  young 
friend,  so  calling  to  Henri  to  come  on  and  let  the  pack- 
horse  remain  to  feed,  he  dashed  away  in  pursuit.  The 
buffaloes  gave  one  stare  of  surprise,  and  then  fled  as 
fast  as  possible.    At  first  it  seemed  as  if  such  huge,  un- 


BUFFALO    CHASE. 


163 


wieldy  carcases  could  not  run  very  fast ;  but  in  a  few 
minutes  they  managed  to  get  up  a  pace  that  put  the 
horses  to  their  mettle.  Indeed,  at  first  it  seemed  as 
if  the  hunters  did  not  gain  an  inch,  but  by  degrees 
they  closed  with  them,  for  buffaloes  are  not  long 
winded. 

On  nearing  the  herd,  the  three  men  diverged  from 
each  other,  and  selected  their  animals.  Henri,  being 
short-sighted,  naturally  singled  out  the  largest ;  and  the 
largest,  —  also  naturally,  —  was  a  tough  old  bull.  Joe 
brought  down  a  fat  young  cow  at  the  first  shot,  and  Dick 
was  equally  fortunate.  But  he  wellnigh  shot  Crusoe 
who,  just  as  he  was  about  to  fire,  rushed  in  unexpectedly 
and  sprang  at  the  animal's  throat,  for  which  piece  of 
recklessness  he  was  ordered  back  to  watch  the  pack- 
horse. 

Meanwhile,  Henri,  by  dint  of  yelling,  throwing  his 
arms  wildly  about,  and  digging  his  heels  into  the  sides 
of  his  long-legged  horse,  succeeded  in  coming  close  up 
•with  the  bull,  which  once  or  twice  turned  his  clumsy 
body  half  round  and  glared  furiously  at  its  pursuer  with 
its  small  black  eyes.  Suddenly  it  stuck  out  its  tail, 
stopped  short,  and  turned  full  round.  Henri  stopped 
short  also.  Now,  the  sticking  out  of  a  buffalo's  tail 
has  a  peculiar  significance  which  it  is  well  to  point  out. 
It  serves,  in  a  sense,  the  same  purpose  to  the  hunter 
that  the  compass  does  to  the  mariner;  it  points  out 


r/f  ;f  :: 


■  ^'1 


164 


HENRI   FLOORED. 


■where  to  go  and  what  to  do.  When  galloping  away  in 
ordinary  flight  the  buffalo  carries  his  tail  like  ordinary 
cattle,  which  indicates  that  you  may  push  on.  When 
wounded,  he  lashes  it  from  side  to  side,  or  carries  it 
over  his  back,  up  in  the  air ;  this  indicates  "  Look  out ! 
haul  off  a  bit ! "  But  when  he  carries  it  stiff  and  hori- 
zontal, witli  a  slight  curve  in  the  middle  of  it,  it  says 
plainly,  "  Keep  back,  or  kill  me  as  quick  as  you  can," 
for  that  is  what  Indians  call  the  mad  tail,  and  is  a  sign 
that  mischief  is  brewing, 

Henri's  bull  displayed  the  mad  tail  just  before  turn- 
ing, but  he  didn't  observe  it,  and,  accordingly,  waited 
for  the  bull  to  move  and  show  his  shoulder  for  a  favor- 
able shot.  But  instead  of  doing  this  he  put  his  head 
down,  and,  foaming  with  rage,  went  at  him  full  tilt. 
The  big  horse  never  stirred ;  it  seemed  to  be  petrified. 
Henri  had  just  time  to  fire*  at  the  monster's  neck,  and 
the  next  moment  was  sprawling  on  his  back,  with  the 
horse  rolling  over  four  or  five  yards  beyond  him.  It 
vas  a  most  effective  tableau.  Henri  rubbing  his  shins 
and  grinning  with  pain,  the  horse  gazing  in  affright  as 
he  rose  trembling  from  the  plain,  and  the  buffalo-bull 
looking  on  half  stunned,  and,  -.'vidently,  very  much  sur- 
prised at  the  result  of  his  charge. 

Fortunately,  before  he  could  repeat  the  experiment, 
Dick  galloped  up  and  put  a  ball  through  his  heart. 

Joe  and  his  comrades  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  their 


BUFFALOES. 


16ft 


their 


exploit  on  this  occasion,  for  there  was  no  need  to  have 
killed  three  animals ;  they  could  not  have  carried  with 
them  more  than  a  small  portion  of  one,  and  they  up- 
braided themselves  several  times  during  the  operation  of 
cutting  out  the  tongues  and  other  choice  portions  of  the 
two  victims.  As  for  the  bull,  he  was  almost  totally 
useless,  so  they  left  him  as  a  gift  to  the  wolves. 

Now  that  they  had  come  among  the  buffalo,  wolves 
were  often  seen  sneaking  about  and  licking  their  hungry 
jaws ;  but  although  they  approached  pretty  near  to  the 
camp  at  nights,  they  did  not  give  the  hunters  any  con- 
cern. Even  Crusoe  becamo  accustomed  to  them  at 
last,  and  ceased  to  notice  them.  These  creatures  are 
very  dangerous  sometimes,  however,  and  when  hard 
pressed  by  hunger  v.'dl  even  attack  man.  The  day 
after  this  hunt  the  travellers  came  upon  a  wounded 
•'d  buffalo  which  had  evidently  escaped  from  the 
Indians  (for  a  couple  of  arrows  were  sticking  in  its 
side),  only  to  fall  a  prey  to  his  deadly  enemies,  the 
white  wolves.  These  savage  brutes  hang  on  the  skirts 
of  the  herds  of  buffaloes  to  attack  and  devour  any  one 
that  may  chance,  from  old  age,  or  from  being  wounded, 
to  linger  behinc'  the  rest.  The  buffalo  is  tough  and 
fierce,  however,  and  fights  so  desperately  that  although 
surrounded  by  fifty  or  a  hundred  wolves,  he  keeps  up 
the  unequal  combat  for  several  days  before  he  finally 
succumbs. 


i    ■ 


■/f 

1  " 

«a 

il 

m^a 

II 

166 


THE  OLD  BULL  AND  THE  WOLVES. 


I 


The  old  bull  that  our  travellers  discovered  had  evi- 
dently been  long  engaged  with  his  ferocious  adversa- 
ries, for  his  limbs  and  flesh  were  torn  in  shrec'.i  in 
many  places,  and  blood  was  streaming  from  his  sides. 
Yet  he  had  fought  so  gallantly  that  he  had  tossed  and 
stamped  to  death  dozens  of  the  enemy.  There  could 
not  have  been  fewer  than  fifty  wolves  round  him ;  and 
they  had  just  concluded  another  of  many  futile  attacks, 
when  the  hunters  came  up,  for  they  were  ranged  in  a 
circle  round  their  huge  adversary  —  some  lying  lown, 
some  sitting  on  their  haunches  to  rest,  and  others  sneak- 
ing about,  lolling  out  their  red  tongues,  and  licking  their 
chops  as  if  impatient  to  renew  the  combat.  The  poor 
buffalo  was  nearly  spent,  and  it  was  clear  that  a  few 
hours  more  would  see  him  torn  to  shreds,  and  his  bones 
picked  clean. 

"  Ugh !  de  brutes,"  ejaculated  Henri. 

"  They  don't  seem  to  mind  us  a  bit,"  remarked  Dick, 
as  they  rode  up  to  within  pistol  shot. 

"  It'll  be  merciful  to  give  the  old  fellow  a  shot," 
said  Joe.  "  Them  varmints  are  sure  to  finish  him  at 
last." 

Joe  raised  his  rifle  as  he  spoke,  and  fired.  The  old 
bull  gave  his  last  groan  and  fell,  while  the  wolves, 
alarmed  by  the  shot,  fled  in  all  directions ;  but  they  did 
not  run  fiir.  They  knew  well  that  some  portion,  at 
least,  of  the  carcase  would  fall  to  their  share,  so  they 


THE    OLD    BULL   AND   THE   WOLVES. 


167 


sat  down  at  variouio  distances  all  round,  to  wait  as  pa- 
tiently as  they  might  for  the  hunters  to  retire.  Dick 
left  the  scene  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  the  vilainous 
wolves  should  have  their  feast  so  much  sooner  than 
they  expected. 

Yet,  after  all,  why  should  we  call  these  avoIvcs  vil- 
lainous? They  did  nothing  wrong  —  nothing  contrary 
to  the  laws  of  their  peculiar  nature.  Nay,  if  we  cme 
to  reason  upon  it,  they  rank  higher  in  this  matter  than 
man,  for  while  the  wolf  does  no  violence  to  the  laws  of 
its  instincts,  man  often  deliberately  silences  the  voice 
of  conscience,  and  violates  the  laws  of  his  own  nature. 
But  we  will  not  insist  on  the  term,  good  reader,  if  you 
object  strongly  to  it.  We  are  willing  to  adroit  that  the 
wolves  are  not  villainous,  but,  assuredly,  they  are  un- 
loveable. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  the  three  horsemen 
reached  a  small  creek,  the  banks  of  which  were  lined 
with  a  few  stunted  shrubs  and  trees.  Having  eaten 
nothing  since  the  night  before,  they  dismounted  here  to 
"  feed,"  as  Joe  expressed  it. 

"  Cur'ous  thing,"  remarked  Joe,  as  he  struck  a  light 
by  means  of  flint,  steel,  and  tinder-box, — "cur'ous  thing 
that  we're  made  to  need  sich  a  lot  o'  grub.  If  we  could 
only  get  on  like  the  sarpints,  now,  wot  can  breakfast  on 
a  rabbit,  and  then  wait  a  month  or  two  for  dinner ! 
Aiu't  it  cur'ous  ?  " 


I 


r  f 

■'  1        v. 

lyi 

H 

I 


168 


A  MISFORTUNE. 


Dick  admitted  that  it  was,  and  stooped  to  blow  the 
fire  into  a  blaze. 

Here  Henri  uttered  a  cry  of  consternation,  and  bt^od 
speechless,  with  his  mouth  open. 

"What's  the  matter?  what  is't?"  cried  Dick  and 
Joe,  seizing  their  rifles  instinctively. 

"  De — grub — him — be — forgat ! " 

There  was  a  look  of  blrnk  horror^  and  then  a  burst 
of  laughter  from  Dick  Varley.  "  Well,  well,"  cried  he, 
"  we've  got  lots  o'  tea  an'  sugar,  nn'  some  flour ;  we  can 
git  on  wi'  that  till  we  shoot  another  buffalo,  or  a  —  ha! '* 

Dick  obser\ed  a  wild  turkey  stalking  among  the  wil- 
lows as  he  spoke.  It  was  fully  a  hundred  yards  off,  pnd 
onlv  its  head  was  scan  above  the  leaves.  This  was  a 
matter  of  little  moment,  however,  for  by  aiming  a  little 
lower  he  knew  that  he  must  hit  the  body;  but  Dick 
had  driven  the  nail  too  often  to  aim  at  its  body ;  he 
aimed  at  the  bird's  eye  and  cut  it"  head  off. 

"  Fetch  it,  Crusoe." 

In  three  minutes  it  was  at  Dick's  feet,  and  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  in  five  minutes  more  it  was  in  the 
pot. 

As  this  unexpected  supply  made  up  for  the  loss  of 
the  meat  which  Henri  had  forgotten  at  their  last  halt- 
ing-place, their  equanimity  was  restored,  and  while  the 
meal  was  in  preparation,  Dick  shouldered  his  rifle  and 
went  into  the  bush  to  try  for  another  turkey.     He  did 


DICK   TRIES    A   NEW    DISH, 


169 


not  get  one,  however,  but  he  shot  a  couple  of  prairie 
hens,  Avhich  are  excellent  eating.  Moreover,  he  found 
a  large  quantity  of  wild  grapes  and  plums.  These  were 
unfortunately  not  nearly  ripe,  but  Dick  resolved  to  try 
his  hand  at  a  new  dish,  so  he  stuffed  thg  breast  of  his 
coat  full  of  tiiera. 

After  the  pot  was  emptied  Diclc  washed  it  out,  and 
put  a  little  clean  water  in  it.  Then  he  poured  some 
flour  in,  and  stirred  it  well.  While  tliis  was  heating, 
he  squeezed  the  sour  grapes  and  plums  into  what  Joe 
called  a  "  mush,"  mixed  it  with  a  spoonful  of  sugar,  and 
emptie*^^  it  into  the  pot.  He  also  skimmed  a  quantity 
of  the  fat  from  the  remains  of  the  turkey  soup,  and 
added  that  to  the  mess,  which  he  stirred  with  earnest 
diligence  till  it  boiled  down  into  a  sort  of  thick  por- 
ridge. 

"D'ye  think  it'll  be  good?"  asked  Joe,  gravely; 
"  I've  me  doubts  of  it." 

"We'll  see.     Hold  the  tin  dish,  Henri." 

"  Take  care  of  de  fingers.  Ha !  it  looks  magnifique  — 
superb ! 

The  first  spoonful  produced  an  expression  on  Henri's 
face  that  needed  not  to  be  interpreted.  It  was  as  sour 
as  vinegar. 

"Ye'U  ha'  to  eat  ic  yerseif,  Dick,  lad,"  cried  Joe, 
throwing  down  his  spoon,  and  spitting  out  the  unsavory 

mQss. 

16 


170 


A  FAILURE. 


I 


"  Nonsense,"  cried  Dick,  bolting  two  or  three  mouth- 
fuls,  and  trying  to  look  as  if  he  liked  it.  "  Try  again  ; 
it's  not  so  bad  as  you  think." 

"  Ho-o-o-o-o ! "  cried  Henri,  after  the  second  mouth- 
fuL  "  'Tis  vinegre.  All  de  sugare  in  de  pack  would 
not  make  more  sweeter  one  bite  of  it." 

Dick  was  obliged  to  confess  the  dish  a  failure,  so  i* 
was  thrown  out  after  having  been  offered  to  Crusoe,  who 
gave  it  one  sniff  and  turned  away  in  silence.  Then  they 
mounted  and  resumed  their  journey. 

At  this  place  mosquitoes  and  horse  flies  troubled  our 
hunters  and  their  steeds  a  good  deal.  The  latter  espec- 
ially were  very  annoying  to  the  poor  horses.  They  bit 
them  so  much  that  the  blood  at  last  came  trickling  down 
their  sides.  They  were  troubled  also,  once  or  twice,  by 
cockchafers  and  locusts,  which  annoyed  them,  not  indeed 
by  biting,  but  by  flying  blindly  against  their  faces,  and 
often  narrowly  missed  hitting  them  in  the  eyes.  Once 
particularly  they  were  so  bad,  that  Henri  in  his  wrath 
opened  his  lips  to  pronounce  a  malediction  on  the  whole 
race,  when  a  cockchafer  fiew  straight  into  his  mouth, 
and,  to  use  his  own  forcible  expression, "  nearly  knocked 
him  oflf  de  boss."  But  these  were  minor  evils,  and 
scarcely  cost  the  hunters  a  thought. 


ttl 


Jg    *    K     -  VJ 


WANDERINGS    ON    THE    PRAIRIE. 


171 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Wanderings  on  the  Prairie.  —  A  War  Party.  —  Chased  by  Indians. 
—  A  Bold  Leap  for  Life. 

For  many  days  the  three  hunters  wandered  over  the 
trackless  prairie  in  search  of  a  village  of  the  Sioux  In- 
dians, hut  failed  to  find  one,  for  the  Indians  were  in  the 
habit  of  shifting  their  ground,  and  following  the  buffalo. 
Several  times  they  saw  small  isolated  bands  of  Indians, 
but  these  they  carefully  avoided,  fearing  they  might  tura 
out  to  be  war  parties,  and  if  they  fell  into  their  hands 
the  white  men  could  not  expect  civil  treatment,  Avhatever 
nation  the  Indians  might  belong  to. 

Dur'.ng  the  greater  portion  of  this  time,  they  met  with 
numerous  herds  of  buffalo  and  deer,  and  were  well  sup- 
plied with  food,  but  they  had  to  cook  it  during  the  day, 
being  afraid  to  light  i^  fire  at  night  while  Indians  were 
prowling  about 

One  night  they  halted  near  the  bed  of  a  stream  which 
was  almost  dry.  They  had  travelled  a  day  and  a  night 
without  wuier,  and  both  meii  and  horses  were  almost 
choking,  so  that  when  they  saw  the  trees  on  the  horizon 


IF' 


'>h,.-.m 


I 


Hi 


172 


WANDERINGS    ON    THE   PRAIRIE. 


which  indicated  the  presence  of  a  stream,  they  pushed 
forward  with  almost  frantic  haste. 

"  Hope  it's  not  dry,"  said  Joe  anxiously  as  they  gal- 
loped up  to  it.  "No,  there's  water,  lads,"  and  they 
dashed  forward  to  a  pool  that  had  not  yet  been  dried 
up.  They  drank  long  and  eagerly  before  they  noticed 
that  the  pool  was  strongly  impregnated  with  salt.  Many 
streams  in  those  parts  of  the  prairies  are  quite  salt,  but 
fortunately  this  one  was  not  utterly  undrinkable,  though 
it  was  very  unpalatable. 

"  We'll  make  it  better,  lads,"  said  Joe,  digging  a  deep 
hole  in  the  sand  with  his  hands,  a  little  below  the  pool. 
In  a  short  time  the  water  fiUered  through,  and  though 
not  rendered  fresh,  it  was,  nevertheless,  much  im- 
proved. 

"  We  may  light  a  fire  to-night,  d'ye  think  ?  "  inquired 
Dick ;  "  we've  not  seed  Injuns  for  some  days." 

"  Pr'aps  'twould  be  better  not,"  said  Joe,  "  but  I  dare- 
say we're  safe  enough." 

A  fire  was  therefore  lighted  in  as  sheltered  a  spot  as 
could  be  found,  and  the  three  friends  bivouacked  as 
usual.  Towards  dawn  they  were  aroused  by  an  angry 
growl  from  Crusoe. 

"It's  a  wolf  likely,"  said  Dick,  but  all  three  seized 
and  cocked  their  rifles  nevertheless. 

Again  Crusoe  growled  more  angrily  than  before,  and 
springing  out  of  the  camp  snuffed  the  breeze  anxiously. 


tx. 


A    WAR-rARTY. 


173 


im- 


"  Up,  lads ;  catch  the  nags !  There's  somethhig  in  the 
wind,  for  the  dog  niver  did  that  afore." 

In  a  few  seconds  the  horses  were  saddled  and  the 
packs  secured. 

"  Call  in  the  dog,"  whispered  Joe  Blunt ;  "  if  he  barks 
they'll  find  out  our  whereabouts." 

"  Here,  Crusoe,  come  — ." 

It  was  too  late ;  the  dog  barked  loudly  and  savagely 
at  the  moment,  and  a  troop  of  Indians  came  coursing 
over  the  plain.  On  hearing  the  unwonted  sound  they 
wheeled  directly  and  made  for  the  camp. 

"  It's  a  war  party  ;  fly,  lads  ;  nothin'  '11  save  our  scalps 
now  but  our  horses'  heels,"  cried  Joe. 

In  a  moment  they  vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and  urged 
their  steeds  forward  at  the  utmost  speed.  The  savages 
observed  them,  and,  with  an  exulting  yell  dashed  after 
them.  Feeling  that  there  was  now  no  need  of  conceal- 
ment, the  three  horsemen  struck  off  into  tlie  open 
prairie,  intendir  g  to  depend  entirely  on  the  speed  and 
stamina  of  their  horses.  As  we  have  before  remarked, 
they  were  good  ones,  but  the  Indians  soon  proved  that 
they  were  equally  well  if  not  better  mounted. 

"  It'll  be  a  hard  run,"  said  Joe  in  a  low,  muttering 

tone,  and  looking  furtively  over  his  shoulder.     "  The 

varmints  are  mounted  on  wild  horses,  leastways  they 

were  wild  not  long  agone.     Them  chaps  can  throw  the 

lasso  and  trip  a  mustang  as  well  as  a  Mexican.    Mind 

15* 


/ 


4 


ill 


!•    « 


' 


II 


M 

M 


174 


CHASED    BY    SAVAGES. 


the  badger  holes,  Dick.  Hold  in  a  bit,  Henri,  yer  nag 
don't  need  drivin'  —  a  foot  in  a  hole  just  now  would  cost 
us  our  scalps.     Keep  down  by  the  creek,  lads." 

"  Hah !  how  dey  yell,"  sjiid  FIcnri  in  a  savage  tone, 
looking  back,  and  shaking  his  rifle  at  them  —  an  act  that 
caused  them  to  yell  more  fiercely  than  ever.  "  Dis  old 
pack-hoss  give  me  moche  trobel." 

The  pace  was  now  tremendous.  Pursuers  and  pur- 
sued rose  and  sank  on  the  prairie  billows  as  they  swept 
along,  till  they  came  to  what  is  termed  a  "dividing 
ridge,"  which  is  a  cross  wave,  as  it  were,  which  cuts 
the  others  in  two,  thus  forming  a  continuous  level. 
Here  they  advanced  more  easily,  but  the  advantage 
was  equally  shared  with  their  pursuers,  who  continued 
the  headlong  pursuit  with  occasional  yells,  which  served 
to  show  the  fugitives  that  they  at  least  did  not  gain 
ground. 

A  little  to  the  right  of  the  direction  in  which  they 
were  flying  a  blue  line  was  seen  on  the  horizon.  This 
indicated  the  existence  of  trees  to  Joe's  practised  eyes; 
and  feeling  that  if  the  horses  broke  down  they  could 
better  make  a  last  manful  stand  in  the  wood  than  on 
the  plain  he  urged  his  steed  towards  it.  The  savages 
noticed  the  movement  at  once,  and  uttered  a  yell  of  exult- 
ation, for  they  regarded  it  as  an  evidence  that  the  I'ugi- 
tiVes  doubted  the  strength  of  their  horses. 

"  Ye  haven't  got  us  yet,"  muttered  Joe,  with  a  sar- 


CHASED    1»Y    SAVAQES. 


175 


donic  grin.  "  If  they  get  near  us,  Dick,  keep  yer  eyes 
open,  an'  look  out  for  yer  neck,  else  they'll  drop  a  noose 
over  it ;  they  will,  afore  ye  know  they're  near,  an'  haul 
jc  off  like  a  sack." 

Dick  nodded  in  reply,  but  did  not  speak,  for  at  that 
moment  his  eye  was  fixed  on  a  small  creek  ahead  which 
they  must  necessarily  leap  or  dash  across.  It  was 
lined  with  clumps  of  scattered  shrubbery,  and  he 
glanced  rapidly  for  the  most  suitable  place  to  pass. 
Joe  and  Henri  did  the  same,  and  having  diverged  a 
little  to  the  different  points  chosen,  they  dashed  through 
the  shrubbery,  and  were  hid  from  each  other's  view. 
On  approaching  the  edge  of  the  stream,  Dick  found  to 
his  consternation  that  the  bank  was  twenty  feet  high 
opposite  him,  and  too  wide  for  any  horse  to  clear. 
Wheeling  aside  without  checking  speed,  at  the  risk  of 
throwing  his  steed,  he  rode  along  the  margin  of  the 
stream  for  a  few  hundred  yards  until  he  found  a  ford 
—  at  least  such  a  spot  as  might  be  cleared  by  a  bold 
leap.  The  temporary  check,  however,  had  enabled  an 
Indian  to  gain  so  close  upon  his  heels,  that  his  exulting 
yell  sounded  close  in  his  ear. 

With  a  vigorous  bound  his  gallant  little  horse  went 
over.  Crusoe  could  not  take  it,  but  he  rushed  down 
the  one  bank  and  up  the  other,  so  that  he  only  lost  a 
few  yards.  These  few  yards,  however,  were  sufficient 
to  bring  the  Indian  close  upon  him  as  he  cleared  the 


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176 


CRUSOE    CAPTURED. 


Stream  at  full  gallop.  The  savage  whirled  his  lasso 
swiftly  round  for  a  second,  and  in  another  moment  Cru- 
soe uttered  a  tremendous  roar  as  le  was  tripped  up  vio- 
lently on  the  plain. 

Dick  heard  the  cry  of  his  faithful  dog,  and  turned 
quickly  round,  just  in  time  to  see  him  spring  at  the 
horse's  throat,  and  bring  both  steed  and  rider  down 
upon  him.  Dick's  heart  leaped  to  his  throat.  Had  a 
thousand  savages  been  rushing  on  him,  he  would  have 
flown  to  the  rescue  of  his  ftvvorite ;  but  an  unexpected 
obstacle  came  in  the  way.  His  fiery  little  steed, 
excited  by  the  headlong  race  and  the  howls  of  the 
Indians,  had  taken  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and  was  now 
unmanageable.  He  tore  at  the  reins  like  a  maniac,  and 
in  the  height  of  his  frenzy  even  raised  the  butt  of  his 
rifle  with  the  intent  to  strike  the  poor  horse  to  the  earth, 
but  his  better  nature  prevailed.  He  checked  the  up- 
lifted hand,  and  with  a  groan  dropped  the  reins,  and  sank 
almost  helplessly  forward  on  the  saddle,  for  several  of 
he  Indians  had  left  the  main  body  and  were  pursuing 
him  alone,  so  that  there  wou  Id  have  been  now  no  chance 
of  his  reaching  the  place  where  Crusoe  fell,  even  if  he 
could  have  turned  his  horse. 

Spiritless,  and  utterly  indifferent  to  what  his  fate 
might  be,  Dick  Varley  rode  along  with  his  head  droop- 
ing, and  keeping  his  seat  almost  mechanically,  while 
the  mettlesome  little  bteed  flew  on  over  wave  and  hoi- 


■ESS 


DICK   IN   DANGER. 


177 


low.  Gradually  he  awakened  from  this  state  of  despair 
to  a  sense  of  danger.  Glancing  round  he  observed  that 
the  Indians  were  now  far  behind  him,  though  still  pur- 
suing. He  also  observed  that  his  companions  were  gal- 
loping miles  away  on  the  horizon  to  the  left,  and  that 
he  had  foolishly  allowed  the  savages  to  get  between 
him  and  them.  The  only  chance  that  remained  for 
him  was  to  outride  his  pursuers,  and  circle  round  to- 
wards his  comrades,  and  this  he  hoped  to  accomplish, 
for  his  little  horse  had  now  proved  itself  to  be  superior 
to  those  of  the  Indians,  and  there  was  good  running  in 
him  still. 

Urging  him  forward,  therefore,  he  soon  left  the  sav- 
ages still  further  behind,  and  feeling  confident  that  they 
could  not  now  overtake  him,  he  reined  up  and  dis- 
mounted. The  pursuers  quickly  drew  near,  but  short 
though  it  was,  the  rest  did  his  horse  good.  Vaulting 
into  the  saddle,  he  again  stretched  out,  and  now  skirted 
along  the  margin  of  a  wood  which  seemed  to  mark  the 
position  of  a  river  of  considerable  size. 

At  this  moment  his  horse  put  his  foot  into  a  badger 
hole,  and  both  of  them  came  heavily  to  the  ground. 
In  an  instant  Dick  rose,  picked  up  his  gun,  and  leaped 
unhurt  into  the  saddle.  But  on  urging  his  poor  horse 
forward,  he  found  that  its  shoulder  was  badly  s[)rained. 
There  was  no  room  for  mercy,  however,  —  life  and 
death  were  in  the  balance,  —  so  he  plied  the  lasti  vigor- 


Hi 


■->' .  ' 


178 


dick's  horse  killed. 


if  i 


1 

1  ' 

^^B 
^^B 

ously,  and  the  noble  steed  warmed  into  something  like  a 
run,  when  again  it  stumbled,  and  foil  with  a  crash  on 
the  giound  while  the  blood  burst  from  its  mouth  and 
nostrils.  Dick  could  hear  the  shout  of  triumph  uttered 
by  his  pursuers. 

"  My  poor,  poor  horse  i "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of 
the  deepest  coramiseraticn,  while  he  stooped  and  stroked 
its  foam-studded  neck. 

The  dying  steed  raised  his  head  for  a  moment,  it  al 
most  seemed  as  if  to  acknowledge  the  tones  of  affection, 
then  it  sau'    down  with  a  gurgling  groan.    ' 

Dick  spraig  up,  for  the  Indians  were  now  upon  him, 
and  bounded  like  an  antelope  into  the  thickest  of  the 
shrubbery ;  which  was  nowhere  thick  enough,  how- 
ever, to  prevent  the  Indians  following.  Still,  it  suffi- 
ciently retarded  them  to  render  the  chase  a  more  equal 
one  than  could  have  been  expected.  In  a  few  minutes 
Dick  gained  a  stripe  of  open  ground  beyond,  and  found 
himself  on  the  bank  of  a  broad  river,  whose  evidently 
deep  waters  rushed  impetuously  along  their  unob- 
structed channel.  The  bank  at  the  spot  where  he 
reached  it  was  a  sheer  precipice  of  between  thirty  and 
forty  feet  high.  Glancing  up  and  down  the  river  he 
retreated  a  few  paces,  turned  round  and  shook  his 
clenched  fist  at  the  savages,  accompanying  the  action 
with  a  shout  of  defiance,  and  then  running  to  the  edge 
of  the  bank,  sprang  far  out  into  the  boiling  flooCi  and 
sank. 


A  BOLD  LEAP  FOR  LIFE. 


179 


The  Indians  pulled  up  on  reaching  the  spot.  There 
was  no  possibility  of  galloping  down  the  wood-encum- 
bered banks  after  the  fugitive,  but  quick  as  thought 
each  red-man  leaped  to  t!ie  ground,  and  fitting  an  arrow 
to  his  bow,  awaited  Dick's  re-appearance  with  eager  gaze. 

Young  though  he  was,  and  unskilled  in  such  ,vild 
warfare,  Dick  knew  well  enough  what  sort  of  reception 
he  would  meet  with  on  coming  to  the  surface,  so  he 
kept  under  water  as  long  as  he  could,  and  struck  out  as 
vigorously  as  the  care  of  his  rifle  would  permit.  At 
last  he  rose  for  a  few  seconds,  and  immediately  half  a 
dozen  arrows  whizzed  through  the  air;  but  most  of 
them  fell  short;  only  one  passed  close  to  his  cheek,  and 
went  with  a  "whip"  into  the  river.  He  immediately 
sank  again,  and  the  next  time  he  rose  to  breathe  he  was 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  his  Indian  enemies. 


I 


180 


dick's  escape. 


'  i 

'     SI 

v 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Escape  from  Indians.  —  A  Discovery.  —  Alone  in  the  Desert. 

Dick  Varlet  had  spent  so  much  of  his  boyhood  m 
sporting  about  among  the  -waters  of  the  rivers  and 
lakes  near  which  he  had  been  reared,  and  especially 
during  the  last  two  years  had  spent  so  much  of  his 
leisure  time  in  rolling  and  diving  with  his  dog  Crusoe 
in  the  lake  of  the  Mustang  Valley,  that  he  had  become 
almost  as  expert  in  the  water  as  a  south-sea  islander ; 
so  that  when  he  found  himself  whirling  down  the  rapid 
river,  as  already  described,  he  was  more  impressed  with 
a  feeling  of  gratitude  to  God  for  his  escape  from  the 
Indians,  than  anxiety  about  getting  ashore. 

.He  was  not  altogether  blind,  or  indifferent,  to  the 
danger  into  which  he  might  be  hurled  if  the  channel  of 
the  river  should  be  found  lower  down  to  be  broken 
with  rocks,  or  should  a  waterfall  unexpectedly  appear. 
After  floating  down  a  sufficient  distance  to  render  pur- 
suit out  of  the  question,  he  struck  in  to  the  bank  oppo- 
site to  that  from  which  he  had  plunged,  and,  clamber- 
ing up  to  the  green  sward  above,  stripped  off  the  greater 
part  of  his  clothing  and  hung  it  on  the  branches  of  a 


dick's  escape. 


181 


bush  to  dry.  Then  he  sat  down  on  the  trunk  of  a 
fallen  tree  to  consider  what  course  he  had  best  pursue 
in  his  present  circumstances. 

These  circumstances  were  by  no  means  calculated  to 
inspire  hira  with  hope  or  comfort.      He  was   in  the 
midst  of  an   unknown  wilderness,  hundreds   of  miles 
from  any  white  man's  settlement ;  surrounded  by  sav- 
ages;  without  food  or  blanket;   his  companions  gone, 
he  knew  not  whither ;  perhaps  taken  and  killed  by  the 
Indians ;  his  horse  dead,  and  his  dog,  the  most  tru^y 
and  loving  of  all  his  friends,  lost  to  him,  probably,  for- 
"'ver!     A  more  veteran  heart  might  have  quailed  in 
*be  midst  of  such  accumulated  evils,  but  Dick  Varley 
possessed   a  strong,  young,  and   buoyant  constitution 
which,  united  with  a  hopefulness  of  disposition  that  al- 
most nothing  could  overcome,  enabled  him  very  quickly 
to  cast  aside  the  gloomy  view  of  his  case  and  turn  to  its 
brighter  aspects. 

He  still  grasped  his  good  rifle,  that  was  some  com- 
fort, and  as  his  eye  fell  upon  it,  he  turned  with  anxiety 
to  examine  into  the  condition  of  his  powder-horn  and 
the  few  things  that  he  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
carry  away  with  him  about  his  person. 

The  horn  ih  which  western  hunters  carry  their 
powder  is  usually  that  of  an  ox.  It  is  closed  up  at  the 
large  end  with  a  piece  of  hard  wood  fitted  tightly  into 
it,  and  the  small  end  is  closed  with  a  wooden  peg  or 

16 


f 


182 


dick's  escape. 


stopper.  It  is,  therefore,  completely  ^'ater-tight,  nnd 
may  be  for  hours  immersed  without  the  powder  getting 
wet,  unless  the  stopper  should  chance  to  be  knocked 
out.  Dick  found,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  that  the 
stopple  was  fast,  and  the  powder  perfectly  dry.  More- 
over, he  had  by  good  fortune  filled  it  full  two  days 
before  from  the  package  that  contained  the  general 
titock  of  ammunition,  so  that  there  were  only  two  or 
three  charges  out  of  it.  His  peicussion  caps,  however, 
were  completely  destroyed,  and  even  though  they  had 
not  been,  it  would  have  mattered  little,  for  he  did  not 
possess  more  than  half  a  dozen.  But  this  was  not  so 
great  a  mistbrtune  as  at  first  it  might  seem,  for  he  had 
the  spare  flint  locks  and  the  little  screw-driver  neces- 
sary for  fixing  and  unfixing  them  stowed  away  in  his 
shot  pouch. 

To  examine  his  supply  of  bullets  was  his  next  care, 
and  slowly  he  counted  them  out,  one  by  one,  to  the 
number  of  thirty.  This  was  a  pretty  fair  supply,  and 
with  careful  economy  would  last  him  many  days. 
Having  relieved  his  mind  on  these  all-important  points, 
he  carefully  examined  every  pouch  and  corner  of  his 
dress  to  ascertain  the  exact  amount  and  value  of  his 
wealth. 

Besides  the  leather-leggins,  moccasins,  deer-skin  hunt- 
Ing-shirt,  cap,  and  belt  which  composed  his  costume,  he 
had  a  short  heavy  hunting-knife,  a  piece  of  tinder,  a 


A   VOICE   IN    THE    WILDEIINES3. 


183 


little  tin  pannikin,  which  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  at  his  belt,  and  a  large  cake  of  maple  sugar. 
This  last  is  a  species  of  sugar  which  is  procured  by  the 
Indians  from  the  maple-tree.  Several  cakes  of  it  had 
been  carried  off  from  the  Pawnee  village,  and  Dick 
usually  carried  one  in  the  breast  of  his  coat.  Besides 
these  things,  he  found  that  the  little  Bible,  for  which 
his  mother  had  made  a  small  inside  breast  pocket,  was 
safe.  Dick's  heart  smote  him  when  he  took  it  out  and 
undid  the  clasp,  for  he  had  not  looked  at  it  -intil  that 
day.  It  was  firmly  bound  with  a  brass  clasp,  so  that 
although  the  binding  and  edges  of  the  leaves  were 
soaked,  the  inside  was  quite  dry.  On  opening  the  book 
to  see  if  it  had  been  damaged,  a  small  paper  fell  out. 
Picking  it  up  quickly,  he  unfolded  it,  and  read,  in  his 
mother's  handwriting,  "  Call  upon  me  in  the  time  oftroU' 
bkj  and  I  will  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt  glorify  me. 
My  son,  give  me  thine  heart.^' 

Dick's  eyes  filled  with  tears  while  the  sound,  as  it 
were,  of  his  mother's  voice  thus  reached  him  unexpect- 
edly in  that  lonely  wilderness.  Like  too  many  whose 
hearts  are  young  and  gay,  Dick  had  regarded  religion, 
if  not  as  a  gloomy,  at  least  as  not  a  cheerful  thing.  But 
he  felt  the  comfort  of  these  words  at  that  moment,  and 
he  resolved  seriously  to  peruse  his  mother's  parting  gift 
in  time  to  come. 

The  sun  was  hot,  and  a  warm  breeze  gently  shook 


ij. 


/ 


184 


HOPES   AND   FEARS. 


the  leaves,  so  that  Dick's  garments  were  soon  dry.  A 
few  minutes  served  to  change  the  locks  of  his  rifle,  draw 
the  wet  charges,  dry  out  the  barrels,  and  re-load.  Then, 
throwing  it  across  his  shoflder,  he  entered  the  wood, 
and  walked  lightly  away.  And  well  he  might,  poor 
fellow,  for  at  that  moment  he  felt  light  enough  in  person 
if  not  in  heart.  His  worldly  goods  were  not  such  as  to 
oppress  him,  but  the  little  note  had  turned  his  thoughts 
towards  home,  and  he  felt  comforted. 

Traversing  the  belt  of  woodland  that  marked  the 
course  of  the  river,  Dick  soon  emerged  on  the  wide 
prairie  beyond,  and  here  he  paused  in  some  uncertainty 
as  to  how  he  should  proceed. 

He  was  too  good  a  backwoodsman,  albeit  so  young, 
to  feel  perplexed  as  to  the  points  of  the  compass.  He 
knew  pretty  well  what  hour  it  was,  so  that  the  sun 
showed  him  the  general  bearings  of  the  country,  and  he 
knew  that  when  night  came  he  could  correct  his  course 
by  the  pole-star.  Dick*s  knowledge  of  astronomy  was 
limited ;  he  knew  only  one  star  by  name,  but  that  one 
was  an  inestimable  treasure  of  knowledge.  His  per- 
plexity was  owing  to  his  uncertainty  as  to  the  direction 
in  which  his  companions  and  their  pursuers  had  gone, 
for  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  follow  their  trail  if 
possible,  and  render  all  the  succor  his  single  arm 
might  afford.  To  desert  them,  and  make  for  the  settle- 
ment, he  held,  would  be  a  faithless  and  cowardly  act. 


H0PE3   AND   PKAR8. 


185 


While  they  were  together,  Joe  Bhmt  had  often  talked 
tl  him  about  the  route  he  meant  to  pursue  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  so  that,  if  they  had  escaped  the  Indians,  he 
thought  there  might  be  some  chance  of  finding  them  at 
last.  But,  to  set  against  this,  there  was  the  probability 
that  they  had  been  taken  and  carried  away  in  a  totally 
different  direction,  or  they  might  have  taken  to  the 
river,  as  he  had  done,  and  gone  further  down  without 
his  observing  them.  Then,  again,  if  they  had  escaped, 
they  would  be  sure  to  return  and  search  the  country 
round  for  him,  so  that  if  he  left  the  spot  he  might  miss 
them. 

"  Oh,  for  my  dear  pup  Crusoe ! "  he  exclaimed  aloud 
in  this  dilemma;  but  the  faithful  ear  was  shut  now, 
and  the  deep  silence  that  followed  his  cry  was  so  op- 
pressive that  the  young  hunter  sprang  forward  at  a  run 
over  the  plain,  as  if  to  fly  from  solitude.  He  soon  be- 
came so  absorbed,  however,  in  his  efforts  to  find  the 
trail  of  his  companions,  that  he  forgot  all  other  consid- 
erations, and  ran  straight  forward  for  hours  together, 
with  his  eyes  eagerly  fixed  on  the  ground.  At  last  he 
felt  so  hungry,  having  tasted  no  food  since  supper-time 
the  previous  evening,  that  he  halted  for  the  purpose  of 
eating  a  morsel  of  maple  sugar.  A  line  of  bushes  in 
the  distance  indicated  water,  so  he  sped  on  again,  and 
was  soon  seated  beneath  a  willow,  drinking  water  from 

16* 


i  it 

If 

I  i. : 


186 


ALONE    IN   THE   PRAIRIE. 


the  cool  stream.  No  game  was  to  be  found  here ;  but 
there  were  several  kinds  of  berries,  among  which  wild 
grape?  and  plums  grew  in  abundance.  With  these  and 
some  igar  he  made  a  meai,  though  not  a  good  one,  for 
the  berries  were  quite  green,  and  intensely  sour. 

All  that  day  Dick  Yarley  followed  up  the  trail  of  his 
companions,  which  he  discovered  at  a  ford  in  the  river. 
They  had  crossed,  therefore,  iu  safety,  though  ^till  pur- 
sued, so  he  ran  on  at  a  regular  trot,  and  with  a  little 
more  hope  than  he  had  felt  during  the  day.  Towards 
night,  however,  Dick's  heart  sank  again,  for  he  came 
upon  innumerable  buffalo  tracks,  among  which  those  of 
the  horses  soon  became  mingled  up,  so  that  he  lost  them 
altogether.  Hoping  to  find  them  again  more  easily  by 
broad  daylight,  he  went  to  the  nearest  clump  of  willows 
he  could  find,  and  encamped  for  the  night. 

Eemembering  the  use  formerly  made  of  the  tal'  wil- 
lows, he  set  to  work  to  construct  a  covering  to  protect 
him  from  the  dew.  As  he  had  no  blanket  or  buffiilo- 
skin,  he  used  leaves  and  grass  instead,  and  found  it  a 
better  shelter  than  he  had  expected,  especially  when  the 
fire  was  lighted,  and  a  pannikin  of  hot  sugar  and  water 
smoked  at  his  feet ;  but  as  no  game  was  to  be  found,  he 
was  again  compelled  to  sup  off  unripe  berries.  Before 
lying  down  to  rest  he  remembered  his  resolution,  and, 
pulling  out  the  little  Bible,  read  a  portion  of  it  by  the 


DICK  AMONG  THE    SAND-PLAINS. 


187 


fitful  blaze  of  the  fire,  and  felt  great  comfort  in  its  blessed 
words.  It  seemed  to  him  like  a  friend  with  whom  he 
could  converse  in  the  midst  of  his  loneliness. 

T'ic  plunge  into  the  river  having  broken  Dick's  pipe 
and  destroyed  his  tobacco,  he  now  felt  the  want  of  that 
luxury  very  severely,  and,  never  having  wanted  it  be- 
fore, he  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  how  much  he  had 
become  enslaved  to  the  habit.  It  cost  him  more  than 
an  hour's  rest  that  night,  the  craving  for  his  wonted 
pipe. 

The  sagacious  reader  will  doubtless  not  fail  here  to 
ask  himself  the  question,  whether  it  is  wise  in  man  to 
create  in  himself  an  unnatural  and  totally  unnecessary 
appetite,  which  may,  and  often  does,  entail  hours  —  ay, 
sometimes  months  —  of  exceeding  discomfort;  but  we 
would  not  for  a  moment  presume  to  suggest  such  a 
question  to  him.  We  have  a  distinct  objection  to  the 
ordinary  method  of  what  is  called  "  drawing  a  moral.'* 
It  is  much  better  to  leave  wise  men  to  do  this  for  them- 
selves. 

Next  morning  Dick  rose  with  the  sun,  and  started 
without  breakfast,  preferring  to  take  his  chance  of  find- 
ing a  bird  or  animal  of  oome  kind  before  long,  to  feeding 
again  on  sour  berries.  He  was  disappointed,  however, 
in  finding  the  tracks  of  his  companions.  The  ground 
here  was  hard  and  sandy,  so  that  little  or  no  impression 
of  a  distinct  kind  was  made  on  it ;   and,  as  bufikloes 


J 


188 


dick's  sufferings  and  sorrows. 


had  traversed  it  in  all  directions,  he  was  soon  utterly- 
bewildered.  He  thought  it  possible  that,  hj  running 
out  for  several  lailes  in  a  straight  line,  and  then  taking 
a  wide  circuit  round,  he  might  find  the  tracks  emerging 
from  the  confusion  made  by  the  buffaloes.  But  he  was 
again  disappointed,  for  the  buffalo  tracks  still  continued, 
and  the  ground  became  less  capable  of  showing  a  foot- 
print. 

Soon  Dick  began  to  feel  so  ill  and  weak  from  eating 
such  poor  fare,  that  he  gave  up  all  hope  of  discovering 
the  tracks,  and  was  compelled  to  purJi  forward  at  his 
utmost  speed  in  order  to  reach  a  less  barren  district, 
"where  he  might  procure  fresh  meat ;  but  the  further  hf 
advanced  the  worse  and  more  sandy  did  the  district 
become.  For  several  days  he  pushed  on  over  this  arid 
waste  without  seeing  bird  or  beast;  and,  to  add  to  his 
misery,  he  failed  at  last  to  find  water.  For  a  day  and 
a  night  he  wandered  about  in  a  burning  fever,  and  his 
throat  so  parched  that  he  was  almost  suffocated.  To- 
wards the  close  of  the  second  day  he  saw  a  slight  line 
of  bushes  away  down  in  a  hollow  on  his  right.  With 
eager  steps  he  staggered  towards  them,  and,  on  drawing 
near,  beheld  —  blessed  sight !  —  a  stream  of  water  glanc- 
ing in  the  beams  of  the  setting  sun. 

Dick  tried  to  shout  for  joy,  but  his  parched  throat 
refused  to  give  utterance  to  the  voice  It  mattered 
not;    exerting  all  his   remaining  strength  be   rushed 


dick's  sufferings  and  sorrows. 


189 


down  the  bank,  dropped  his  rifle,  and  plunged  head- 
foremost into  the  stream. 

The  first  mouthful  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  to  his  heart ; 
it  was  salt  as  brine ! 

The  poor  youth's  cup  of  bitterness  was  now  full  to 
overflowing.  Crawling  out  of  the  stream,  he  sank  down 
on  the  bank  in  a  species  of  lethargic  torpor,  from  which 
he  awakened  next  morning  in  a  raging  fever.  Delirium 
soon  rendered  him  insensible  to  his  sufferings.  The 
sun  rose  like  a  ball  of  fire,  and  shone  down  with  scorch- 
ing power  on  the  arid  plain.  What  mattered  it  to 
Dick  ?  He  was  far  away  in  the  shady  groves  of  the 
Mustang  Valley,  chasing  the  deer  at  times,  but  more 
frequently  cooling  his  limbs  and  sporting  with  Crusoe 
in  the  bright  blue  lake.  Now  he  was  at  his  mother's 
cottage,  telling  her  hew  he  had  thought  of  her  when 
far  away  on  the  prairie,  and  what  a  bright,  sweet  word 
it  was  she  had  whispered  in  his  ear, —  so  unexpectedly, 
too.  Anon  he  was  scouring  over  the  plains  on  horse- 
back, with  the  savages  at  his  heels ;  and  at  such  times 
Dick  would  spring  with  almost  supernatural  strength 
from  the  ground,  and  run  madly  over  the  burning 
plain ;  but,  as  if  by  a  species  of  fascination,  he  always 
returned  to  the  salt  river,  and  sank  exhausted  by  its 
side,  or  plunged  helplessly  into  its  waters. 

These  sudden  immersions  usually  restored  him  for  a 
short  time  to  reason,  and  he  would  crawl  up  the  bank 


190 


Crusoe's  return. 


and  gna^  a  morsel  of  the  maple  sugar ;  but  he  could 
not  eat  much,  for  it  was  in  a  tough,  compact  cake,  which 
his  jaws  had  not  power  to  break.  All  that  day  and 
the  next  night  he  lay  on  the  banks  of  the  salt  stream, 
or  rushed  wildly  over  the  plain.  It  was  about  noon  of 
the  second  day  after  his  attack  that  he  crept  slowly 
out  of  the  water,  into  which  he  had  plunged  a  few 
seconds  before.  His  mind  was  restored,  but  he  felt  an 
indescribable  sensation  of  weakness,  that  seemed  to  him 
to  be  the  approach  of  death.  Creeping  towards  the 
place  where  his  rifle  lay,  he  fell  exhausted  beside  it, 
and  laid  his  cheek  on  the  Bible,  which  had  fallen  out 
of  his  pocket  there. 

While  his  eyes  were  closed  in  a  dreamy  sort  of  half- 
waking  slumber,  he  felt  the  rough,  hairy  coat  of  an  ani- 
mal brush  against  his  forehead.  The  idea  of  being  torn 
to  pieces  by  wolves  flashed  instantly  across  his  mind, 
and  with  a  shriek  of  terror  he  sprang  up, —  to  be  almost 
overwhelmed  by  the  caresses  of  his  faithful  dog. 

Yes,  there  he  was,  bounding  round  his  master,  bark- 
ing and  whining,  and  giving  vent  to  every  possible  ex- 
pression of  canine  joy  I 


■i>     i.iiiUliliiiH 


Crusoe's  private  adventures. 


191 


CHAPTER   XIV, 


Crusoe's  Return  and  his  Private  Adventures  among  the  Indians. 
Dick  at  a  very  low  Ebb.  —  Crusoe  saves  Him. 

Tf'^.  means  by  which  Crusoe  managed  to  escape  from 
his  two-legged  captors,  and  rejoin  his  master,  requires 
separate  and  special  notice. 

In  the  struggle  with  the  fallen  horse  and  Indian, 
which  Dick  had  seen  begun  but  not  concluded,  he  was 
almost  crushed  to  death ;  and  the  instant  the  Indian 
gained  his  feet,  he  sent  an  arrow  at  his  head  with  sav- 
age violence.  Crusoe,  however,  had  been  so  well  used 
to  dodging  the  blunt-headed  arrows  that  were  wont  to 
be  shot  at  him  by  the  boys  of  the  Mustang  Valley,  that 
he  was  quite  prepared,  and  eluded  the  shaft  by  an  ac- 
tive bound.  Moreover,  he  uttered  one  of  his  own  pecu- 
liar roars,  flew  at  the  Indian's  throat,  and  dragged  him 
down.  At  the  same  moment  the  other  Indians  came 
up,  and  one  of  them  turned  aside  to  the  rescue.  This 
man  happened  to  have  an  old  gun,  of  the  cheap  sort  at 
that  time  exchanged  for  peltries  by  the  fur-traders. 
With  the  butt  of  this  he  struck  Crusoe  a  blow  on  the 
head  that  sent  him  sprawling  on  the  grass. 


I 


in 


192 


CRUSOE'S   PRIVATE   ADVENTURES. 


:    sj 


The  rest  of  the  savages,  as  we  have  seen,  continued 
in  pursuit  of  Dick  until  he  leaped  into  the  river ;  then 
they  returned,  took  the  saddle  and  bridle  off  his  dead 
horse,  and  rejoined  their  comrades.  Here  they  held  a 
court-martial  on.  Crusoe,  who  was  now  bound,  foot  and 
muzzle,  with  cords.  Some  were  for  killing  him ;  others, 
who  admired  his  noble  appearance,  immense  size,  and 
courage,  thought  it  would  be  well  to  carry  him  to  their 
village  and  keep  him.  There  was  a  pretty  violent  dis- 
pute on  the  subject ;  but  at  length  it  was  agreed  that 
they  should  spare  his  life  in  the  mean  time,  and  perhaps 
have  a  dog-dance  round  him  when  they  got  to  their  wig- 
wams. 

This  dance,  of  which  Crusoe  was  to  be  the  chief 
though  passive  performer,  is  peculiar  to  some  of  the 
tribes  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  consists  in 
killing  a  dog  and  cutting  out  its  liver,  which  is  after- 
wards sliced  into  shreds  or  strings  and  hung  on  a  pole 
about  the  height  of  a  man's  head.  A  band  of  warriors 
t^en  come  and  dance  wildly  round  this  pole,  and  each 
one  in  succession  goes  up  to  the  raw  liver  and  bites  a 
piece  off  it,  without,  however,  putting  his  hands  near 
it.  Such  is  the  dog-dance,  and  to  such  was  poor  Cru- 
soe destined  by  his  fierce  captors,  especially  by  the  one 
whose  throat  still  bore  very  evident  marks  of  his 
teeth. 

But  Crusoe  was  much  too  clever  a  dog  to  be  dis- 


Crusoe's  trivate  adventures. 


193 


It 


posed  of  in  so  disgusting  a  manner.  Pie  had  privately 
resolved  in  his  own  mind  that  he  would  escape,  but 
the  hopelessness  of  his  ever  carrying  that  resolution 
into  effect  would  have  been  apparent  to  any  one  who 
could  have  seen  the  way  in  which  his  muzzle  was  se- 
cured, and  his  four  paws  were  tied  together  in  a  bunch, 
as  he  hung  suspended  across  the  saddle  of  one  of  the 


savages ! 


This  particular  party  of  Indians  who  had  followed 
Dick  Varley  determined  not  to  wait  for  the  return  of 
their  comrades  who  were  in  pursuit  of  the  other  two 
hunters,  but  to  go  straight  home,  so  for  several  days 
they  galloped  away  over  the  prairie.  At  nights,  when 
they  encamped,  Crusoe  was  thrown  on  the  ground  like  a 
piece  of  old  lumber,  and  left  to  lie  there  with  a  mere 
scrap  of  food  till  morning,  when  h(  was  again  thrown 
across  the  horse  of  his  captor,  and  carried  on.  When 
the  village  was  reached,  he  was  thrown  again  on  the 
ground,  and  would  certainly  have  been  torn  to  pieces 
in  five  minutes  by  the  Indian  curs  which  came  howling 
round  him,  had  not  an  old  woman  come  to  the  rescue 
and  driven  them  away.  With  the  help  of  her  grand- 
son—  a  little  naked  creature,  just  able  to  walk,  or 
rather  to  stagger  —  she  dragged  him  to  her  tent,  and  un- 
doing the  line  that  fastened  his  mouth,  offered  h'ni  a 
bone.  • 

Although  lying  in  a  position  that  was  unfavorable 

17 


^*«iiiiiiwi:,i)iJiJwwtMauto»fc«a 


mm 


194 


CRUSOE  S    ESCAPE    FROM   THE    INDIANS. 


for  eating  purposes,  Crusoe  opened  his  jaws  and  took  it. 
An  awful  crash  was  followed  by  two  crunches  —  and  it 
was  gone ;  and  Crusoe  looked  up  in  the  old  squaw's 
face  with  a  look  that  said  plainly,  "  Another  of  the  same, 
please,  and  as  quick  as  possible."  The  old  woman 
gave  him  another  and  then  a  lump  of  meat,  which  lat- 
ter went  down  with  a  gulp  —  but  he  coughed  after  it! 
and  it  was  well  he  didn't  choke.  After  this  the  squaw 
left  him,  and  Crusoe  spent  the  remainder  of  that  night 
gnawing  the  cords  that  bound  him.  So  diligent  was 
he  that  he  was  free  before  morning,  and  walked  delib- 
erately out  of  tlie  tent.  Then  he  shook  himself,  and 
with  a  yell  that  one  might  have  fancied  was  intended  for 
defiance,  he  bounded  joyfully  away,  and  was  soon  out  of 
sight. 

To  a  dog  with  a  good  i>ppetite  which  had  been  on 
short  allowance  for  several  days,  the  mouthful  given  to 
him  by  the  old  squaw  was  a  mere  nothing.  All  that 
day  he  kept  bounding  over  the  plain  from  bluff  to  bluff 
in  search  of  someiliing  to  eat,  but  found  nothing  until 
dusk,  when  he  pounced  suddenly  and  most  unexpectedly 
on  a  prairie-hen  fast  asleep.  In  one  moment  its  life  was 
gone.  In  less  than  a  minute  its  body  was  gone  too  — 
feathers  and  bones  and  all  —  down  Crusoe's  ravenous 
throat. 

On  the  identical  spot  Crusoe  laid  down  and  slept  like 
a  top  for  four  hours.     At  the  end  of  that  time  he  jumped 


THE   RE-UNION. 


195 


on 

to 

lat 

luff 

intil 

was 


like 
ped 


•- 


up,  bolted  a  scrap  of  skin  that  somehow  had  been 
overlooked  at  supper,  and  flew  straight  over  the  prairie 
to  the  spot  where  he  had  had  the  scuffle  with  the 
Indian.  He  came  to  the  edge  of  the  river,  took  pre- 
cisely the  same  leap  that  his  master  had  done  before 
him,  and  came  out  on  the  other  side  a  good' deal  highei 
up  than  Dick  had  done,  for  the  dog  had  no  savages  to 
dodge,  and  was,  as  we  have  said  before,  a  powerful 
swimmer. 

It  cost  him  a  good  deal  of  running  about  to  find  the 
trail,  and  it  was  nearly  dark  before  he  resumed  his 
journey ;  then,  putting  his  keen  nose  to  the  ground,  he 
ran  step  by  step  over  Dick's  track,  and  at  last  found 
him,  as  we  have  shown,  on  the  banks  of  the  Salt 
Creek. 

It  is  quite  impossible  to  describe  the  intense  joy 
which  filled  Dick's  heart  on  again  beholding  his  favor- 
ite. Only  those  who  have  lost  and  found  such  an  one 
can  know  it.  Dick  seized  him  round  the  neck  and 
hugged  him  as  well  as  he  could,  poor  fellow,  in  his  fee- 
ble arms ;  then  he  wept,  then  he  laughed,  and  then  he 
fainted. 

This  was  a  consummation   that  took  Crusoe  quite 
aback !     Never  having  seen  his  master  in  such  a  state  . 
before  he  seemed  to  think  at  first  that  he  was  playing 
some  trick,  for  he  bounded  round  him,  and  barked,  and 
wagged   his  tail.      33ut    as    Dick  lay  quite  still  and 


ff 


196 


FRESH  WATER. 


motionless,  he  Trent  forward  with  a  look  of  alarm; 
snuffed  him  once  or  twice  and  whined  piteously ;  then 
he  raised  his  nose  in  the  air  and  uttered  a  long  melan- 
choly wail. 

The  cry  seemed  to  revive  Dick,  for  he  moved,  and 
with  some  difficulty  sat  up,  to  the  dog's  evident  relief. 
There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  Crusoe  learned  an 
erroneous  lesson  that  day,  and  was  firmly  convinced 
thenceforth  tho,t  the  best  cure  for  a  fainting-fit  is  a  mel- 
ancholy yell.  So  easy  is  it  for  the  wisest  of  dogs  as  well 
as  men  to  fall  into  gross  error ! 

"  Crusoe,"  said  Dick,  in  a  feeble  voice,  "  dear  good 
pup,  come  here."  lie  crawled,  as  he  spoke,  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  where  there  was  a  level  tract  of  dry 
sand. 

"  Dig,"  said  Dick,  pointing  to  the  sand. 

Crusoe  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  as  well  he  might, 
for  he  had  never  heard  the  word  "  dig "  in  all  his  life 
before. 

Dick  pondered  a  minute  ;  then  a  thought  struck  him. 
He  turned  up  a  little  of  the  sand  with  his  fingers,  and, 
pointing  to  the  hole  cried,  "  Seek  him  out,  pup  !  " 

Ha!  Crusoe  understood  that.  Many  and  many  a 
time  had  he  unhoused  rabbits,  and  squfrrels,  and  other 
creatures  at  that  word  of  command,  so,  without  a  mo- 
ment's delay,  he  commenced  to  dig  down  into  the  sand, 
every  now  and  then  stopping  for  a  moment  and  shov- 


r  I 


HOPE    RETURNS. 


1»7 


life 


ing  in  his  noso,  and  snuflBng  interrogatively,  as  if  he 
fully  expected  to  find  a  buffalo  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
Then  he  would  resume  again,  one  paw  after  another,  so 
fast  that  you  could  scarce  see  them  going  —  "hand 
over  hand,"  as  sailors  would  have  called  it  —  while  the 
sand  flew  out  between  his  hind  legs  in  a  continuous 
shower.  When  the  sand  accumulated  so  much  behind 
him  as  to  impede  his  motions  he  scraped  it  out  of  his 
way,  and  set  to  work  again  with  tenfold  earnestness. 
After  a  good  while  he  paused  and  looked  up  at  Dick 
with  an  "  it-won't-do,-I-fear,-there's-nothing-here "  ex- 
pression on  his  face. 

"  Seek  him  out,  pup ! "  repeated  Dick. 

"Oh!  very  good,"  mutely  answered  the  dog,  and 
went  at  it  again,  tooth  and  nail,  harder  than  ever. 

In  the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  there  was  a 
deep  yawning  hole  in  the  and,  into  which  Dick  peered 
with  intense  anxiety.  The  bottom  appeared  slightly 
damp.  Hope  now  reanimated  Dick  Varley,  and  by 
various  devices  he  succeeded  in  getting  the  dog  to 
scrape  away  a  sort  of  tunnel  from  the  hole,  into  which 
he  might  roll  himself  and  put  down  his  lips  to  drink 
when  the  water  should  rise  high  enough.  Impatiently 
and  anxiously  he  lay  watching  the  moisture  slowly 
accumulate  in  the  bottom  of  the  hole,  drop  by  drop, 
and  while  he  gazed  he  fell  into  a  troubled,  restless  slum- 
ber, and  dreamed  that  Crusoe's  retui:n  ^yas  a  dream, 

17* 


198 


FOOD    OBTAINED. 


I    I 


' 


and  that  he  was  alone  again  perishing  for  want  of 
water. 

When  he  awakened  the  hcle  was  half  full  of  clear 
water,  and  Crusoe  was  lapping  it  greedily. 

"  Back,  pup ! "  he  shouted,  as  he  crept  down  to  the 
hole  and  put  his  trembling  lips  to  the  water.  It  was 
brackish,  but  drinkable,  and  as  Dick  drank  deeply  of 
it  he  esteemed  it  at  that  moment  better  than  nectar. 
Here  he  lay  for  half  an  hour  alternately  drinking  and 
gazing  in  surprise  at  his  own  emaciated  visage  as  re- 
flected in  the  pool. 

The  same  afternoon,  Crusoe,  in  a  private  hunting  ex- 
cursion of  his  own,  discovered  and  caught  a  prairie-hen, 
which  he  quietly  proceeded  to  devour  on  the  spot, 
when  Dick,  who  saw  what  had  occurred,  whistled  to 
him. 

Obedience  was  engrained  in  every  fibre  of  Crusoe's 
mental  and  corporeal  being.  He  did  not  merely  an- 
swer at  once  to  the  call  —  he  sprang  to  it,  leaving  the 
prairie-hen  untasted. 

"  Fetch  it,  pup,"  cried  Dick  eagerly  as  the  dog  came 
up. 

In  a  few  moments  the  hen  was  at  his  feet.  Dick's 
circumstances  could  not  brook  the  delay  of  cookery; 
he  gashed  the  bird  with  his  knife  and  drank  the  blood, 
and  then  gave  the  flesh  to  the  dog,  while  he  crept  to  the 
pool  again  for  another  draught.    Ah !  think  not,  reader, 


FOOD    OBTAINED. 


199 


an- 
the 


came 


lick*s 
|ery; 

lood, 
the 

%der. 


that  although  we  have  treated  this  subject  in  a  slight 
vein  of  pleasantry,  because  it  ended  well,  that  therefore 
our  tale  is  pure  fiction.  Not  only  are  Indians  glad  to 
satisfy  the  urgent  cravings  of  hunger  with  raw  flesh, 
but  many  civilized  men  and  delicately  nurtured,  have 
done  the  same  —  ay,  and  doubtless,  will  do  the  same 
again,  as  long  as  enterprising  and  fearless  men  shall 
go  forth  to  dare  the  dangers  of  flood  and  field  in  the 
wild  places  of  our  wonderful  world ! 

Crusoe  had  finished  his  share  of  the  feast  before  Dick 
returned  from  the  pool.  Then  master  and  dog  lay 
down  together  side  by  side  and  fell  into  a  long,  deep, 
peaceful  slumber. 


if 


200 


RETURNING   HEALTH. 


I 


CHAPTER  XV. 


i 


Health  and  lluppiness  return. — Incidents  of  the  Journey.  —  A  Buf- 
falo Shot. —  A  Wild  Ilorso  "creased."  —  Dick's  Battle  with  a 
Mustang. 

Dick  Vauley's  fears  and  troubles,  in  the  mean  time, 
were  ended.  On  the  day  following  he  awoke  refreshed 
and  happy  —  so  happy  and  light  at  heart,  as  he  felt  the 
glow  of  returning  health  coursing  through  his  veins,  that 
he  fancied  he  must  have  dreamed  it  all.  In  fact,  he  was 
80  certain  that  his  muscles  were  strong  that  he  endea- 
vored to  leap  up,  but  was  powerfully  convinced  of  his 
true  condition  by  the  miserable  stagger  that  resulted 
from  the  effort. 

However,  he  knew  he  was  recovering,  so  he  rose,  and 
thanking  God  for  his  recovery  and .  for  the  new  hope 
that  was  raised  in  his  heart,  he.  went  down  to  the  pool 
and  drank  deeply  of  its  water.  Then  he  returned,  and, 
sitting  down  beside  his  dog,  opened  the  Bible  and  read 
long  —  and,  for  the  first  time,  earnestly — the  story  of 
Christ's  love  for  sinful  man.  He  at  last  fell  asleep 
over  the  book,  and  when  he  awakened  felt  so  much  re- 
freshed in  body  and  mind  that  he  determined  to  attempt 
to  pursue  his  journey.  ^ 


"iwlWni^  ' 


r 


DICK   CONTINUES   HIS  JOURNEY. 


fOl 


Ho  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he  came  upon  a 
colony  of  prairie-dogs.     Upon   this   occasion   he   was 
little  inclined  to  take  a  humorous  view  of  the  vagaries 
of  these  curious  little  creatures,  but  he  shot  one,  and,  as 
before,  ate  part  of  it  raw.      These  creatures  are  so 
active  that  they  are  difficult  to  shoot,  and  even  when 
killed  generally  fall  into   their  holes  and   disappear. 
Crusoe,  however,  soon  unearthed  the  dead  animal  on 
this   occasion.     That  night  the  travellers  came  to   a 
stream  of  fresh  water,  and  Dick  killed  a  turkey,  so  that 
he  determined  to  spend  a  couple  of  days  there  to  re- 
cruit.    At  the  end  of  that  time  he  again  set  out,  but 
was  able  only  to  advance  five  miles  when  he  broke 
down.     In  fact,  it  became  evident  to  him  that  he  must 
have  a  longer  period  of  absolute  repose  ere  he  could 
hope  to  continue  his  journey,  but  to  do  so  without  food 
was  impossible.    Fortunately  there  was  plenty  of  water, 
as  his  course  lay  along  the  margin  of  a  small  stream, 
and,  as  the  arid  piece  of  prairie  was  now  behind  him, 
he  hoped  to  fall  in  with  birds,  or  perhaps  deer,  soon. 

While  he  was  plodding  heavily  and  wearily  along, 
pondering  these  things,  he  came  to  the  brow  of  a  wave 
from  which  he  beheld  a  most  magnificent  view  of  green 
grassy  plains,  decked  with  flowers,  and  rolling  out  to 
the  horizon,  with  a  stream  meandering  through  it,  and 
clumps  of  trees  scattered  everywhere  far  and  wide.  It 
was  a  glorious  sight ;  but  the  most  glorious  object  in 


202 


A  HAPPY   SHOT. 


it  to  Dick,  at  that  time,  was  a  fat  buffalo  which  stood 
grazing  not  a  hundred  yards  off.  The  wind  was  blow- 
ing towards  him,  so  that  the  animal  did  not  scent  him, 
and,  as  he  came  up  very  slowly,  and  it  was  turner^  away, 
it  did  not  see  him. 

Crusoe  would  have  sprung  forrraru  in  an  instant,  but 
his  master's  finger  imposed  silence  and  caution.  Trem- 
bling with  eagerness  Dick  sank  flat  down  in  the  grass, 
cocked  both  barrels  of  his  piece,  and,  resting  it  on  his 
left  hand  with  his  left  elbow  on  the  ground,  he  waited 
until  the  animal  should  present  its  side.  In  a  few  sec- 
ond'=  it  moved ;  Dick's  eyes  glanced  along  the  barrel, 
but  it  trembled  —  his  wonted  steadiness  of  aim  was  gone. 
He  fired,  and  the  buffalo  sprang  off  in  terror.  With  a 
groan  of  despair  he  fired  again,  —  almost  recklessly,  — 
and  the  buffalo  fell !  It  rose  once  or  twice  and  stum- 
bled forward  a  few  paces,  then  it  fell  again.  Meanwhile 
Dick  re-loaded  with  trembling  hand,  and  advanced  to 
give,  it  another  shot,  but  it  was  not  needful,  the  buffalo 
was  already  dead. 

"  Now,  Crusoe,"  said  Dick,  sitting  down  on  the  buf- 
falo's shoulder,  and  patting  his  favorite  on  the  head, 
*'  we're  all  right  at  last.  You  and  I  shall  have  a  jolly 
time  o't,  pup,  from  this  time  for'ard." 

Dick  paused  for  breath,  and  Crus()e  wagged  his  .ail 
and  looked  as  if  to  say  — pshaw !  "  as  if!  ** 

We  tell  ye  what  it  is,  reader,  it's  of  no  use  at  all  to 


L.': 


^ 


DICK  AND  CRUSOE  CONVERSE. 


203 


to 

'alo 


go  on  writing  "  as  if,"  when  we  tell  you  what  Crusoe 
said.  If  there  is  any  language  in  eyes  whatever,  —  if 
there  is  language  in  a  tail;  in  a  cocked  ear;  in  a 
mobile  eyebrow ;  in  the  point  of  a  canine  nose  ;  —  if 
there  is  language  in  any  terrestrial  thing  at  all,  apart 
from  that  which  flows  from  the  tongue  —  then  Crusoe 
spoke.  Do  we  not  speak  at  this  mor  ient  to  you  ?  and 
if  so,  then  tell  me,  wherein  lies  the  difference  between  a 
written  letter  and  a  given  sign  ? 

Yes,  Crusoe  spoke.  He  said  to  Dick  as  plain  as  dog 
could  say  it,  slowly  and  emphatically,  "  That's  my  opin- 
ion precisely,  Dick.  You're  the  deyrest,  most  beloved, 
jolliest  fellow  that  ever  walked  on  two  legs,  you  are ; 
and  whatever's  your  opinion  is  mine,  no  matter  how  ab- 
surd it  may  be." 

Dick  evidently  understood  him  perfectly,  for  he 
laughed  as  he  looked  at  him  and  patted  him  on  the  head, 
and  called  him  a  "  funny  dog."  Then  he  continued  his 
discourse  — 

"  Yes,  pup,  we'll  make  our  camp  here  for  a  long  bit, 
old  dog,  in  this  beautiful  plain.  We'll  make  a  willow 
wigwam  to  sleep  in,  you  and  me,  jist  in  yon  clump  o* 
trees,  not  a  stone's  throw  to  our  right,  where  we'll  have 
a  run  o'  pure  water  beside  us,  and  be  near  our  buffalo 
at  the  same  time.  For,  ye  see,  we'll  need  to  watch  him 
lest  the  wolves  take  a  notion  to  eat  him  —  that'll  be 
your  duty,  pup.    Then  I'll  skin  him  when  1  get  strong 


iii 


mom 


r 


am 


204 


THE    ENCAMPMENT. 


[ 


enough,  whicli'll  be  in  a  day  or  two  I  hope,  and  we'll 
put  one  half  of  the  skin  below  us  and  t'other  half  above 
us  i'  the  camp,  an'  sleep,  an'  eat,  an'  take  it  easy  for  a 
week  or  two  —  won't  we  pup  ?  " 

"  Hoora-a-a-y ! "  shouted  Crusoe,  with  a  jovial  wag 
of  his  tail,  that  no  human  arm  with  hat,  or  cap,  or  ker- 
chief ever  equalled. 

Poor  Dick  Varley !  He  smiled  to  think  how  earnestly 
he  had  been  talking  to  the  dog,  but  he  did  not  cease  to 
do  it,  for,  although  he  entered  into  discourses,  the  drift 
of  which  Crusoe's  limited  education  did  not  permit  him 
to  follow,  he  found  comfort  in  hearing  the  sound  of  his 
own  voice,  and  in  knowing  that  it  fell  pleasantly  on 
another  ear  in  that  lonely  wilderness. 

(Jur  hero  now  set  about  his  preparations  as  vigorously 
as  he  could.  He  cut  out  the  buffalo's  tongue  —  a  mat- 
ter of  great  difficulty  to  one  in  his  weak  state  —  and 
carried  it  to  a  pleasant  spot  near  to  the  stream  where 
the  turf  was  level  and  green,  and  decked  with  wild 
flowers.     Here  ho  resolved  to  make  his  camp. 

His  first  care  was  to  select  a  bush  whose  branches 
were  long  enough  to  form  a  canopy  over  his  head  when 
bent,  and  the  ends  thrust  into  the  ground.  The  com- 
pleting of  this  exhausted  him  greatly,"  but  after  a  rest 
he  resumed  his  labors.  The  next  thing  was  to  light  a 
fire  —  a  comfojt  which  he  had  not  enjoyed  for  many 
"weary  days.    Not  that  he  required  it  for  warmth,  for 


DELICACIES    AND    COMFORTS. 


205 


the  weather  was  extremely  warm,  but  he  required  it  to 
cook  with,  and  the  mere  sight  of  a  blaze  in  a  dark  place 
is  a  most  heart-cheering  thing  as  every  one  knows. 

When  the  lire  was  lighted  he  filled  his  pannikin  at 
the  brook  and  put  it  on  to  boil,  and,  cutting  several 
slices  of  buffalo  tongue,  he  thrust  short  stakes  through 
them  and  set  them  up  before  the  fire  to  roast.  By  this 
time  the  water  was  boiling,  so  he  took  it  ofi"  with  diffi- 
culty, nearly  burning  his  fingers  and  singing  the  tail  of 
his  coat  in  so  doing.  Into  the  pannikin  he  put  a  lump 
of  maple  sugar  and  stirred  it  about  with  a  stick,  and 
tasted  it.  It  seemed  to  him  even  better  than  tea  or 
coffee.    It  was  absolutely  delicious ! 

Really  one  has  no  notion  what  he  can  do  if  he  makes 
believe  very  hard.  The  human  mind  is  a  nicely  balanced 
and  extremely  complex  machine,  and  when  thrown  a 
little  off  the  balance  can  be  made  to  believe  almost  any 
thing,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  some  poor  monomaniacs, 
who  have  fancied  that  they  were  made  of  all  sorts  of 
things  —  glass  and  porcelain,  and  such  like.  No  wonder 
then  that  poor  Dick  Varley,  after  so  much  suffering 
and  hardship,  came  to  regard  that  pannikin  of  hot  syrup 
as  the  most  delicious  beverage  he  ever  drank. 

During    all    these    operations    Crusoe    sat    on  his 

haunches  beside  him  and  looked.     And  you  haven't 

—  no,  you  haven't,  got  the  most  distant  notion  of  the 

18 


206 


DELICACIES   AND    COMFORTS. 


way  in  which  that  dog  mandjuvred  with  his  head  and 
face !  He  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  cocked  his  ears, 
and  turned  his  head  first  a  little  to  one  side,  then  a 
little  to  the  other.  After  that  he  turned  it  a  good  deal 
to  one  side  and  then  a  good  deal  more  to  the  other. 
Then  he  brought  it  straight  and  raised  one  eye-brow  a 
little,  and  then  the  other  a  little,  and  then  both  together 
very  much.  Then,  when  Dick  paused  to  rest  and  did 
nothing,  Crusoe  looked  mild  for  a  moment,  and  yawned 
vociferously.  Presently  Dick  moved  —  up  went  the 
ears  again  and  Crusoe  came  —  in  military  parlance  — 
"  to  the  position  of  attention ! "  At  last  supper  was  ready 
and  they  began. 

Dick  had  purposely  kept  the  dog's  supper  back  from 
him  in  order  that  they  might  eat  it  in  company.  And 
between  every  bite  and  sup  that  Dick  took  he  gave  a 
bite  —  but  not  a  sup  —  to  Crusoe.  Thus  lovingly  they 
ate  together ;  and,  when  Dick  lay  that  night  under  the 
willow  branches  looking  up  through  them  at  the  stars 
with  his  feet  to  the  fire  and  Crusoe  close  along  his  side, 
he  thought  it  the  best  and  sweetest  supper  he  ever  ate, 
and  the  happiest  evening  he  ever  spent  —  so  wonder- 
fully do  circumstances  modify  our  notions  of  felicity  I 

Two  weeks  after  this  "  Richard  wps  himself  again." 
The  muscles  were  springy,  and  the  blood  coursed  fasff 
and  free,  as  was  its  wont.    Only  a  slight,  and,  perhaps. 


CREASING  A   WILD   HORSE. 


207 


salutary  feeling  of  weakness  remained,  to  remind  him 
that  young  muscles  might  again  become  more  helpless 
than  those  of  an  aged  man  or  a  child. 

Dick  had  left  his  encampment  a  week  ago,  and  was 
now  advancing  by  rapid  stages  towards  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  closely  following  the  trail  of  his.  lost  com- 
rades, which  he  had  no  difficulty  in  fitiding  and  keeping, 
now  that  Crusoe  was  with  him.  The  skin  of  the 
buffalo  that  he  had  killed  was  now  strapped  to  his 
shoulders,  and  the  skin  of  another  animal  that  he  had 
shot  a  few  days  after  was  cut  up  into  a  long  line  and 
slung  in  a  coil  round  his  neck.  Crusoe  was  also  laden. 
He  had  a  little  bundle  of  meat  slung  on  each  side  of  him. 

For  some  time  past  numerous  herds  of  mustangs,  or 
wild  horses,  had  crossed  their  path,  and  Dick  was  now 
on  the  look  out  for  a  chance  to  crease  one  of  those  mag- 
nificent creatures. 

On  one  occasion  a  band  of  mustangs  galloped  close 
up  to  him  before  they  were  aware  of  his  presence,  and 
stopped  short  with  a  wild  snort  of  surprise  on  beholding 
him ;  then,  wheeling  round,  they  dashed  away  at  full 
gallop,  their  long  tails  and  manes  flying  wildly  in  the 
air,  and  their  hoofs  thundering  on  the  plain.  Dick  did 
not  attempt  to  crease  one  upon  this  occasion,  fearing 
that  his  recent  illness  might  have  rendered  his  hand  too 
unsteady  for  so  extremely  delicate  an  operation. 

In  order  to  crease  a  wild  horse  the  hunter  requires 


208 


WILD   HORSES    OP  THE   PAR  WEST. 


to  be  a  perfect  shot,  and  it  is  not  every  man  of  the  west 
who  carries  a  rifle  that  can  do  it  successfully.  Creasing 
consists  in  sending  a  bullet  through  the  gristle  of  the 
mustang's  neck,  just  above  the  bone,  so  as  to  stun  the 
animal.  If  the  ball  enters  a  hair's-breadth  too  low, 
the  horse  falls  dead  instantly.  If  it  hits  the  exact 
spot  the  horse  fall  as  instantaneously,  and  dead  to  all 
appearance ;  but,  in  reality,  he  is  only  stunned,  and  if 
left  for  a  few  minutes  will  rise  and  gallop  away  nearly 
as  well  as  ever.  "When  hunters  crease  a  horse  success- 
fully they  put  a  rope,  or  halter,  round  his  under  jaw, 
and  hobbles  round  his  feet,  so  that  when  he  rises  he 
is  secured,  and,  after  considerable  trouble,  reduced  to 
obedience. 

The  mustangs  which  roam  in  wild  freedom  on  the 
prairies  of  the  far  west,  are  descended  from  the  noble 
Spanish  steeds  that  were  brought  over  by  the  wealthy 
cavaliers  who  accompanied  Fernando  Cortez,  the  con- 
queror of  Mexico,  in  his  expedition  to  the  new  world  in 
1518.  These  bold,  and,  we  may  add,  lawless  cavaliers, 
were  mounted  on  the  finest  horsies  that  could  be  pro- 
cured from  Barbary  and  the  deserts  of  the  Old  World. 
The  poor  Indians  of  the  New  "World  were  struck  with 
amazement  and  terror  at  these  awful  beings,  for,  never 
having  seen  horses  before,  they  believed  that  horse  and 
rider  were  one  animal.  During  the  wars  that  followed 
many  of  the  Spaniards  were  killed  and  their  steeds 


WILD   HORSES    OF   THE   FAR   WEST. 


209 


bounded  into  the  wilds  of  the  new  country  to  enjoy  a 
life  of  unrestrained  freedom.  These  were  the  forefathers 
of  the  present  race  of  magnificent  creatures  which  are 
found  in  immense  droves  all  over  the  western  wilderness, 
from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  the  confines  of  the  snowy 
regions  of  the  far  north. 

At  first  the  Indians  beheld  these  horses  with  awe 
and  terror,  but  gradually  they  became  accustomed  to 
them,  and  finally  succeeded  in  capturing  great  numbers 
and  reducing  them  to  a  state  of  servitude.  Not,  how- 
ever, to  the  service  of  the  cultivated  field,  but  to  the 
service  of  the  chase  and  war.  The  savages  soon  ac- 
quired the  method  of  capturing  wild  horses  by  means  of 
the  lasso  —  as  the  noose  at  that  end  of  a  long  line  of 
raw  hide  is  termed  —  which  they  adroitly  threw  over 
the  heads  of  the  animals  and  secured  them,  having  pre- 
viously run  them  down.  At  the  present  day  many  of 
the  savage  tribes  of  the  west  almost  live  upon  horse- 
back, and  without  these  useful  creatures  they  could 
scarcely  subsist,  as  they  are  almost  indispensable  in  the 
chase  of  the  buffaln. 

Mustangs  are  regularly  taken  by  the  Indians  to 
the  settlements  of  the  white  men  for  trade,  but  very 
poor  specimens  are  these  of  the  breed  of  wild  horses. 
This  arises  from  two  causes.  First,  the  Indian  can- 
not overtake  the  finest  of  a  drove  of  wild  mustangs, 

because  his  own  steed  is  inferior  to  the  best  among  the 

18* 


..-> 


fW 


210 


WILD   ASSES. 


•# 


f 


wild  ones  besides  being  weighted  with  a  rider,  so  that 
only  the  weak  and  inferior  animals  are  captured.  And, 
secondly,  when  the  Indian  does  succeed  in  lassoing  a 
first-rate  horse,  he  keeps  it  for  his  own  use.  Thus, 
those  who  have  not  visited  the  far  off  prairies  and  seen 
the  mustang  in  all  the  glory  of  untrammelled  freedom, 
can  form  no  adequate  idea  of  its  beauty,  fleetness,  and 
strength. 

The  horse,  however,  was  not  the  only  creature  im- 
ported by  Cortez.  There  were  priests  in  his  army 
who  rode  upon  asses,  and,  although  we  cannot  Lnagine 
that  the  "  fathers  "  charged  with  the  cavaliers  and  were 
unhorsed,  or,  rather,  un-assed  in  battle,  yet,  somehow, 
the  asses  got  rid  of  their  riders  and  joined  the  Spanish 
chargers  in  their  joyous  bound  into  a  new  life  of  free- 
dom. Hence  wild  asses  also  are  found  in  the  western 
prairies.  But  think  not,  reader,  of  those  poor  misera- 
ble wretches  we  see  at  home,  which  seem  little  better 
than  rough  door-mats  sewed  up  and  stuffed ;  with  head, 
tail,  and  legs  attached,  and  just  enough  of  life  infused  to 
make  them  move !  No,  the  wild  ass  of  the  prairie  is  a 
large,  powerful,  swift  creature.  He  has  the  same  long 
ears,  it  is  true,  and  the  same  hideous,  exasperating  ray, 
and  the  same  tendency  to  flourish  his  heels ;  but,  for  all 
that,  he  is  a  very  fine  animal,  and  often  wages  sitccess- 
ful  warfare  with  the  wild  horse ! 

But  to  return.     The  next  drove  of  mustangs  that 


i 


dick's  preparations. 


211 


Dick  and  Crusoe  saw,  were  feeding  quietly  and  unsus- 
pectingly in  a  rich  green  hollow  in  the  plain.  Dick's 
heart  leaped  up  as  his  eyes  suddenly  fell  on  them,  for 
he  had  almost  discovered  himself  before  he  was  aware 
of  their  presence. 

"  Down,  pup ! "  he  whispered,  as  he  sank  and  disap- 
peared among  the  grass  which  was  just  long  enough  to 
cover  him  when  lying  quite  flat. 

Crusoe  crouched  immediately,  and  his  master  made 
his  observations  of  the  drove,  and  the  dispositions  of  the 
ground  that  might  favor  his  approach,  for  they  were  not 
within  rifle  range.  Having  done  so  he  crept  slowly 
back  until  the  undulation  of  the  prairie  hid  him  from 
view ;  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  ran  a  considerable 
distance  along  the  bottom  until  he  gained  the  extreme 
end  of  a  belt  of  low  bushes,  which  would  effectually  con- 
ceal him  while  he  approached  to  within  a  hundred  yards 
or  less  of  the  troop. 

Here  he  made  his  arrangements.  Throwing  down 
his  buffalo  robe,  he  took  the  coil  of  line  and  cut  off  a 
piece  of  about  three  yards  in  length.  On  this  he  made 
a  running  noose.  The  longer  line  he  also  prepared 
with  a  running  noose.  These  he  threw  in  a  coil  over 
his  arm. 

He  also  made  a  pair  of  hobbles  and  placed  them  in 
the  breast  of  his  coat,  and  then,  taking  up  his  rifle,  ad- 
vanced cautiously  through  the  bushes  —  Crusoe  follow- 


mmmm' 


212 


THE   SUCCESSFUL    SHOT. 


i 


ing  close  behind  him.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  gazing 
in  admiration  at  the  mustangs  which  were  now  within 
easy  shot,  and  utterly  ignorant  of  the  presence  of  man, 
for  Dick  had  taken  care  to  approach  in  such  a  way  that 
the  wind  did  not  carry  the  scent  of  him  in  their  direc- 
tion. 

And  well  might  he  admire  them.  The  wild  horse  of 
these  regions  is  not  very  large,  but  it  is  exceedingly 
powerful,  with  prominent  eye,  sharp  nose,  distended 
nostril,  small  feet,  and  a  delicate  leg.  Their  beautiful 
manes  hung  at  great  length  down  their  arched  necks, 
and  their  thick  tails  swept  the  ground.  One  magnifi- 
cent fellow  in  particular  attracted  Dick's  attention. 
It  was  of  a  rich  dark-brown  color,  with  black  mane  and 
tail,  and  seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  drove. 

Although  not  the  ne.irest  to  him,  he  resolved  to  crease 
this  horse.  It  is  said  that  creasing  generally  destroys  or 
damages  the  spirit  of  the  horse,  so  Dick  determined  to 
try  whether  his  powers  of  close  shooting  would  not  serve 
him  on  this  occasion.  Going  down  on  one  knee  he 
aimed  at  the  creature's  neck,  just  a  hair-breadth  above 
the  spot  where  he  had  been  told  that  hunters  usually 
hit  them,  and  fired.  The  effect  upon  the  group  was 
absolutely  tremendous.  With  wild  cries  and  snorting 
terror  they  tossed  their  proud  heads  in  the  air,  uncer- 
tain for  one  moment  in  which  direction  to  fly ;  then  there 
was  a  rush  as  if  a  hurricane  swept  over  the  place,  and 
they  were  gone. 


dick's  battle  with  a  mustang. 


218 


But  the  brown  horse  was  down.  Dick  did  not  wait 
until  the  others  had  fled.  He  dropped  his  rifle,  and 
with  the  speed  of  a  deer,  sprang  towards  the  fallen 
horse,  and  affixed  the  hobbles  to  his  legs.  His  aim  had 
been  true.  Although  scarcely  half  a  minute  elapsed 
between  the  shot  and  the  fixing  of  the  hobbles  the 
animal  recovered,  and  with  a  frantic  exertion  rose  on 
his  haunches,  just  as  Dick  had  fastened  the  noose  of 
the  short  line  in  his  under  jaw.  But  this  was  not 
enough.  If  the  horse  had  gained  his  feet  before  the 
longer  line  was  placed  round  his  neck,  he  would  have 
escaped.  As  the  mustang  made  the  second  violent 
plunge  that  placed  it  on  its  legs,  Dick  flung  the  noose 
hastily;  it  caught  on  one  ear,  and  would  have  fallen 
off,  had  not  the  horse  suddenly  shaken  its  head,  and 
unwittingly  sealed  its  own  fate  by  bringing  the  noose 
round  its  neck. 

And  now  the  struggle  began.  Dick  knew  well 
enough,  from  hearsay,  the  method  of  "  breaking  down  '* 
a  wild  horse.  He  knew  that  the  Indians  choke  them 
with  the  noose  round  the  neck  until  they  fall  down  ex- 
hausted and  covered  with  foam,  when  they  creep  up, 
fix  the  hobbles  and  the  line  in  the  lower  jaw,  and  then 
loosen  the  lasso  to  let  the  horse  breathe,  and  resume  its 
plungings  till  it  is  almost  subdued,  when  they  gradually 
draw  near  and  breathe  into  its  nostrils.  But  the  vio- 
lence and  strength  of  this  animal  rendered  this  an  appar- 


214 


THE  BATTLE. 


ently  hopeless  task.  We  have  already  seen  that  the 
hobbles  and  noose  in  the  lower  jaw  had  been  fixed,  so 
that  Dick  had  nothing  now  to  do  but  to  choke  his  captive, 
and  tire  him  out,  while  Crusoe  remained  a  quiet,  though 
excited  spectator  of  the  scene. 

But  there  seemed  to  be  no  possibility  of  choking  this 
horse.  Either  the  muscles  of  his  neck  were  too  strong, 
or  there  was  something  wrong  with  the  noose  which 
prevented  it  from  acting,  for  the  furious  creature 
dashed  and  bounded  backwards  and  sidewise  in  its 
terror  for  nearly  an  hour,  dragging  Dick  after  it,  till 
he  was  almost  exhausted,  and  yet,  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  although  flecked  with  foam  and  panting  with 
terror,  it  seemed  as  strong  as  ever.  Dick  held  both 
line!?,  for  the  short  one  attached  to  its  lower  jaw  gave 
him  great  power  over  it.  At  last  he  thought  of  seeking 
assistance  from  his  dog. 

"  Crusoe,"  he  cried,  "  lay  hold,  pup." 

Tiie  dog  seized  the  long  line  in  his  teeth,  and  pulled 
with  all  his  might.  At  the  same  moment  Dick  let  go 
the  short  line  and  threw  all  his  weight  upon  the  long 
one.  The  noose  tightened  suddenly  under  this  strain, 
and  the  mustang,  with  a  gasp,  fell  choking  to  the  ground. 

Dick  had  often  heard  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
Mexicans  "  break  "  their  horses,  so  he  determined  to 
abandon  the  method  which  had  already  almost  worn  him 
out,  and  adopt  the  other,  as  far  as  the  means  in  his  power 


THE  BATTLE. 


215 


rendered  .£  possible.  Instead,  therefore,  of  loosening 
the  lasso  and  re-commencing  the  struggle,  he  tore  a 
branch  from  a  neighboring  bush,  cut  the  hobbles,  strode 
with  his  legs  across  the  fallen  steed,  seized  the  end  of 
the  short  line  or  bridle,  and  then,  ordering  Crusoe  to 
quit  his  hold,  ho  loosened  the  noose  which  compressed 
the  horse's  neck,  and  had  already  wellnigh  terminated 
its  existence. 

One  or  two  deep  sobs  restored  it,  and  in  a  moment 
it  leaped  to  its  feet  with  Dick  firmly  on  its  back  !  To 
say  that  the  aniinal  leaped  and  kicked  in  its  frantic 
efforts  to  throw  th  intolerable  burden  would  be  a 
tame  manner  of  c  ^ssing  what  took  place.  Words 
cannot  adequately  describe  the  scene.  It  reared, 
plunged,  shrieked,  vaulted  into  the  air,  stood  straight 
up  on  its  hind  legs,  and  then  almost  as  straight  upon 
its  fore  ones,  but  its  rider  held  on  like  a  burr.  Then 
the  mustang  raced  wildly  forwards  a  few  paces,  then 
as  wildly  back,  and  then  stood  still  and  trembled  vio- 
lently. But  this  was  only  a  brief  lull  in  the  storm,  so 
Dick  saw  that  the  time  was  now  come  to  assert  the 
superiority  of  his  race. 

"Stay  back,  Crusoe,  and  watch  my  rifle,  pup,"  he 
cried,  and,  raising  his  heavy  switch  he  brought  it  down 
with  a  sharp  cut  across  the  horse's  flank,  at  the  same 
time  loosening  the  rein  which  hitherto  he  had  held  tight. 


216 


THE    BATTLE. 


The  wild  horse  uttered  a  passionate  cry,  and  sprang 
forward  like  the  bolt  from  a  cross-bow. 
,  And  now  commenced  *a  race  which,  if  not  as  pro- 
longed, was  at  least  as  furious  as  that  of  the  far-famed 
Mazeppa.  Dick  was  a  splendid  rider,  however,—  at 
least  as  far  as  "  sticking  on "  goes.  He  might  not 
have  come  up  to  the  precise  pitch  desiderated  by  a 
riding-master  in  regard  to  carriage,  &c.,  but  be  rode 
that  wild  horse  of  the  prairie  with  as  much  ease  as  he 
had  formerly  ridden  his  own  good  steed,  whose  bones 
had  been  picked  by  the  wolves  not  long  ago. 

The  pace  was  tremendous,  for  the  youth's  weight 
was  nothing  to  that  muscular  frame  which  bounded 
with  cat-like  agility  from  wave  to  wave  of  the  undulat- 
ing plain  in  ungovernable  terror.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  clump  of  willows  where  Crusoe  and  his  rifle  lay 
were  out  of  sight  behind,  but  it  mattered  not,  for  Dick 
had  looked  up  at  the  sky  and  noted  the  position  of  the 
sun  at  the  moment  of  starting.  Away  they  went  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind,  mile  after  mile  over  the  ocean- 
like waste  —  curving  slightly  aside  now  and  then  to 
avoid  the  bluffs  that  occasionally  appeared  on  the 
scene  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  swept  out  of  sight 
behind  them.  Then  they  came  to  a  little  rivulet ;  it 
was  a  mere  brook  of  a  few  feet  wide,  and  two  or  three 
yards,  psrhaps,  from  bank  to  bank.     Over  this   they 


m 


i 


THE   BATTLE. 


flew,  SO  easily  that  the  spring  was  scarcely  felt,  and 
continued  the  headlong  course.  And  now  a  more  bar- 
ren country  was  around  them.  Sandy  ridges  and  scrubby 
grass  appeared  everywhere,  reminding  Dick  of  the  place 
where  he  had  been  so  ill.  Rocks,  too,  were  scattered 
about,  and  at  one  place  the  horse  dashed  with  clattering 
hoofs  between  a  couple  of  rocky  sand-hills  which,  for  a 
few  seconds,  hid  the  prairie  from  view.  Here  the  mus- 
tang suddenly  ahied  with  such  violence  that  his  rider 
was  nearly  thrown,  while  a  rattlesnake  darted  from  the 
path.  Soon  they  emerged  from  this  pass,  and  again 
the  plains  became  green  and  verdant.  Presently  a  dis- 
tant line  of  trees  showed  that  they  were  approaching 
water,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  close  on  it.  For 
the  first  time  Dick  felt  alarm ;  he  sought  to  check  his 
steed,  but  no  force  he  could  exert  had  the  smallest  influ- 
ence on  it. 

Trees  and  bushes  flew  past  in  bewildering  confusion ; 
the  river  was  before  him ;  what  width,  he  could  not 
tell,  but  he  was  reckless  now,  like  his  chaiger,  which 
he  struck  with  the  willow  rod  with  all  his  force  as  they 
came  up.  One  tremendous  bound,  and  they  were 
across,  but  Dick  had  to  lie  flat  on  the  mustang's  back 
as  it  crashed  through  the  bushes  to  avoid  being  scraped 
off  by  the  trees.     Again  they  were  on  the  open  plain, 

and  the  wild  horse  began  to  show  signs  of  exhaustion. 

19 


\,    < 


218 


VICTORY. 


Now  was  its  rider's  opportunity  to  assert  his  do- 
minion. He  plied  the  >yillow  rod  and  urged  the  pant- 
ing horse  on,  until  it  was  white  with  foam  and  labored 
a  little  in  its  gait.  Then  Dick  gently  drew  the  halter, 
and  it  broke  into  a  trot;  still  tighter — and  it  walked 
—  and  in  another  minute  stood  still,  trembling  in  every 
limb.  Dick  now  quietly  rubbed  its  neck,  and  spoke 
to  it  in  soothing  tones,  then  he  wheeled  it  gently 
round  and  urged  it  forward.  It  was  quite  subdued 
and  docile.  In  a  little  time  they  came  to  the  river 
and  forded  it,  after  A>,hich  they  went  through  the  belt 
of  woodland  at  a  walk.  By  the  time  they  reached  the 
open  prairie,  the  mustang  was  recovered  sufficiently  to 
feel  its  spirit  returning,  so  Dick  gave  it  a  gentle  touch 
with  the  switch,  and  away  they  went  on  their  return 
journey. 

But  it  amazed  Dick  not  a  little  to  find  how  long  that 
journey  was.  Very  different  was  the  pace,  too,  from 
the  previous  mad  gallip,  and  often  would  the  poor  horse 
have  stopped  had  Dick  uHowed  him.  But  this  might 
not  be.  The  shades  of  nig'  were  approaching,  and  the 
camp  lay  a  long  way  ahead. 

At  last  it  was  reached,  and  Crusoe  came  out  with 
great  demonstrations  of  joy,  but  was  sent  back  lest  he 
should  alarm  the  horse.  Then  Dick  jumped  off  his 
back,  stroked  his  head,  put  his  cheek  close  to  his  mouth, 


VICTORY. 


219 


and  whispered  softly  to  him,  after  which  he  fastened 
him  to  a  tree  and  rubbed  him  down  slightly  with  a 
bunch  of  grass.  Having  done  this,  he  left  him  to  graze 
as  far  as  his  tether  would  permit,  and,  after  supping 
with  Crusoe,  lay  down  to  rest,  not  a  little  elated  with 
his  success  in  this  first  attempt  at  "creasing"  and 
"  breaking  "  a  mustang. 


I; 


22a 


DICK  A  HORSE   TAMER. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Dick  becomes  a  Horse  Tamer.  —  Resumes  his  Journey.  —  Charlie's 
doings.  —  Misfortunes  which  lead  to,  but  do  not  terminate  in,  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  —  A  Grizzly  Bear. 

There  is  a  proverb — or  a  saying — or  at  least  some- 
body or  book  has  told  us,  that  some  Irishman  once 
said  — b"  Be  aisy,  or,  if  ye  can't  be  aisy,  be  as  aisy  as 
ye  can." 

Now,  we  count  that  good  advice,  and  strongly  re- 
commend it  to  all  and  sundry.  Had  we  been  at  the 
side  of  Dick  Varley  on  the  night  after  his  taming  of 
the  wild  horse,  we  would  have  strongly  urged  that 
advice  upon  him.  Whether  hv  would  have  listened  to 
it  or  not  is  quite  another  question  —  we  rather  think 
not.  Reader,  if  you  wish  to  know  why,  go  and  do 
what  he  did,  and  if  you  feel  no  curious  sensations 
about  the  region  of  the  loins  after  it,  we  will  tell  you 
why  Dick  Varley  wouldn't  have  listened  to  that  ad- 
vice. Can  a  man  feel  as  if  his  joints  were  wrenched 
out  of  their  sockets,  and  listen  to  advice  —  be  that 
advice  good  or  bad?  Can  he  feel  as  though  these 
joints  were  ti'ying  to  re-set  and  re-dislocate  themselves 


WILD    HORSE    TAMING. 


221 


perpetually  —  and  listen  to  advice  ?  Can  he  feel  as  if 
he  were  sitting  down  on  red-hot  iron,  when  he's  not 
sitting  down  at  all  —  and  listen  to  advice  ?  Can  he  — 
but  no!  why  pursue  the  subject?  Poor  Dick  spent 
that  night  in  misery,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  follow- 
ing day  in  sleep,  to  make  up  for  it. 

When  he  got  up  to  breakfast  in  the  afternoon,  he  felt 
much  better,  but  shaky. 

"  Now,  pup,"  he  said,  stretching  himself,  "  we'll  go 
and  see  our  horse.  Ours,  pup ;  yours  and  mine :  didn't 
you  help  to  catch  him,  eh  !  pup  ?  '* 

Crusoe  acknowledged  the  fact  with  a  wag,  and  a 
playful  "  bow-wow  —  wow-oo-ow  !  "  and  followed  his 
master  to  the  place  where  the  horse  had  been  picketed. 
It  was  standing  there  quite  quiet,  but  looking  a  little 
timid. 

Dick  went  boldly  up  to  it  and  patted  its  head  and 
stroked  its  nose,  for  nothing  is  so  likely  to  alarm  either 
a  tame  or  a  wild  horse  as  any  appearance  of  timidity  or 
hesitation  on  the  part  of  those  who  approach  them. 

After  treating  it  thus  for  a  short  time,  he  stroked 
down  its  neck,  and  then  its  shoulders  —  the  horse  eye- 
ing him  all  the  time  nervously.  Gradually  he  stroked 
its  back  and  limbs  gently,  and  walked  quietly  round 
and  round  it  once  or  twice,  sometimes  approaching  and 
sometimes  going  away,  but  never  either  hesitating  or 
doing  any  thing  abruptly.     This  done,  he  went  down  to 

19* 


im 


222 


WILD   HORSE   TAMING. 


the  stream  and  filled  his  cap  with  water  and  carried  it 
to  the  horse,  which  snufifed  suspiciously  and  backed  a 
little,  so  he  laid  the  cap  down,  and  went  up  and  patted 
him  again.  Presently  he  took  up  the  cap  and  carried 
it  to  his  nose ;  the  poor  creature  was  almost  choking 
with  thirst,  so  that,  the  moment  he  understood  what  was 
in  the  cap,  he  buried  his  lips  in  it  and  sucked  it  up. 

This  was  a  great  point  gained,  he  had  accepted  a 
benefit  at  the  hands  of  his  new  master;  he  had  be- 
come a  debtor  to  man,  and  no  doubt  he  felt  the  obli- 
gation. Dick  filled  the  cap,  and  the  horse  emptied  it 
again,  and  again,  and  again,  until  its  burning  thirst  was 
slaked.  Then  Dick  went  up  to  his  shoulder,  patted  him, 
undid  the  line  that  fastened  him,  and  vaulted  lightly  on 
his  back ! 

We  say  lightly,  for  it  was  so,  but  it  wasn't  easily,  as 
Dick  could  have  told  you!  However,  he  was  deter- 
mined not  to  forego  the  training  of  his  steed  on  account 
of  what  he  would  have  called  a  "  little  bit  pain." 

At  this  unexpected  act  the  horse  plunged  and  reared 
a  good  deal,  and  seemed  inclined  to  go  through  the  per- 
formance of  the  day  before  t)ver  again,  but  Dick  patted 
and  stroked  him  into  quiescence,  and  having  done  so, 
urged  him  into  a  gallop  over  the  plains,  causing  the 
dog  to  gambol  round  in  order  that  he  might  get  accus- 
tomed to  him.  This  tried  his  nerves  a  good  deal,  and 
no  wonder,  for  if  he  took  Crusoe  for  a  wolf,  which  no 


4. 


WILD   HORSE  TAMING. 


223 


as 


per- 
illed 
so, 
the 
Iccus- 
and 
Ih  no 


/ 


donbt  he  did,  he  must  have  thought  him  a  very  giant  of 
the  pack. 

By  degrees  they  broke  into  a  furious  gallop,  and  after 
breathing  him  well,  Dick  returned  and  tied  him  to  the 
tree.  Then  he  rubbed  him  down  again,  and  gave  him 
another  drink.  This  time  the  horse  smelt  his  new  mas- 
ter all  over,  and  Dick  felt  that  he  had  conquered  him 
by  kindness.  No  doubt  the  tremendous  run  of  the  day 
before  could  scarcely  be  called  kindness,  but  without 
this  subduing  run  he  never  could  have  brought  the 
offices  of  kindness  to  bear  on  so  wild  a  steed. 

During  all  these  operations  Crusoe  sat  looking  on 
with  demure  sagacity  —  drinking  in  wisdom  and  taking 
notes.  We  know  not  whether  any  notes  made  by  the 
canine  race  have  ever  been  given  to  the  world,  but 
certain  are  we  that,  if  the  notes  and  observations  made 
by  Crusoe  on  that  journey  were  published,  they  would 
—  to  say  the  least  —  surprise  us ! 

Next  day  Dick  gave  the  wild  horse  his  second 
lesson,  and  liis  name.  He  called  him  "  Charlie,"  after 
a  much  loved  companion  in  the  Mustang  Valley. 
And  long  and  heartily  did  Dick  Varley  laugh  as  he 
told  the  horse  his  future  designation  in  the  presence  of 
Crusoe,  for  it  struck  him  as  somewhat  ludicrous  that  a 
mustang,  which,  two  days  ago,  pawed  the  earth  in  all  the 
pride  of  independent  freedom,  should  suddenly  come 
down  so  low  as  to  carry  a  hunter  on  his  back  and  be 
named  Charlie ! 


I 


224 


WILD   HORSE  TAMING. 


The  next  piece  of  instruction  began  by  Crusoe  being 
led  up  under  Charlie  s  nose,  and  while  Dick  patted  the 
dog  with  his  right  hand  he  patted  the  horse  with  his 
left.  It  backed  a  good  deal  at  first  and  snorted,  but 
Crusoe  walked  slowly  and  quietly  in  front  of  him 
several  times,  each  time  coming  nearer,  until  he  again 
stood  under  his  nose,  then  the  horse  smelt  him  ner- 
vously, and  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  found  that 
Crusoe  paid  no  attention  to  him  whatever.  Dick  then 
ordered  the  dog  to  lie  down  at  Charlie's  feet,  and  went 
to  the  camp  to  fetch  his  rifle,  and  buffalo  robe,  and 
pack  of  meat.  These  and  all  the  other  things  belong- 
ing to  him  were  presented  for  inspection,  one  by  one,  to 
the  horse,  who  arched  his  neck,  and  put  forward  his 
ears,  and  eyed  them  at  first,  but  smelt  them  all  over, 
and  seemed  to  feel  more  easy  in  his  mind. 

Next,  the  buffalo  robe  was  rubbed  over  his  nose, 
then  over  his  eyes  and  head,  then  down  his  neck  and 
shoulder,  and  lastly  was  placed  on  his  back.  Then  it 
was  taken  off"  and  fiung  on  ;  after  that  it  was  strapped 
on,  and  the  various  little  items  of  the  camp  were  at- 
tached to  it.  This  done,  Dick  took  up  his  rifle  and  let 
him  smell  it ;  then  he  put  his  hand  on  Charlie's  shoul- 
der, vaulted  on  to  his  back,  and  rode  away. 

Charlie's  education  was  completed;  and  now  our 
hero's  journey  began  again  in  earnest,  and  with  some 
prospect  of  its  speedy  termination. 


MtmnmiaiitttmiM 


DICK  REiCTMES   UTS   JOtmNET.^ 


225 


In  this  course  of  training  through  which  Dick  put 
his  wild  horse,  he  had  been  at  much  greater  pains  and 
had  taken  far  longer  time  than  is  usually  the  case  among 
the  Indians,  who  will  catch,  and  "  break,"  and  ride  a 
wild  horse  into  camp  in  less  than  three  hours.  But 
Dick  wanted  to  do  the  thing  well,  which  the  Indians 
are  not  careful  to  do  ;  besides,  it  must  be  borne  in  re- 
membrance that  this  was  his  first  attempt,  and  that  his 
horse  was  one  of  the  best  and  most  high-spirited,  while 
those  caught  by  the  Indians,  as  we  have  said,  are  gene- 
rally the  poorest  of  a  drove. 

Dick  now  followed  the  trail  of  his  lost  companions 
at  a  rapid  pace,  yet  not  so  rapidly  as  he  might  have 
done,  being  averse  to  exhausting  his  good  dog  and 
his  new  companion.  Each  night  he  encamped  under  the 
shade  of  a  tree  or  a  bush  when  he  could  find  one,  or  in 
the  open  prairie  when  there  were  none,  and,  picketing 
his  horse  to  a  short  stake  or  pin  which  he  carried  with 
him  for  the  purpose,  lit  his  fire,  had  supper,  and 
lay  down  to  rest.  In  a  few  days  Charlie  became 
so  tame  and  so  accustomed  to  his  master's  voice  that 
he  seemed  quite  reconciled  to  his  new  life.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  whatever  that  he  had  a  great  dislike  to 
solitude,  for  on  one  occasion,  when  Dick  and  Crusoe 
went  off  a  mile  or  so  from  the  camp  where  Charlie  was 
tied,  and  disappeared  from  his  view,  he  was  heard  to 
neigh  so  loudly  that  Dick  ran  back,  thinking  the  wolves 


226 


Charlie's  doings. 


i  I  ! 
''  f  1 


■*  t 


must  have  attacked  him.  He  was  all  right,  however, 
and  exhibited  evident  tokens  of  satisfaction  when  they 
returned. 

On  another  occasion  his  fear  of  being  left  alone  was 
more  cleariy  demonstrated., 

Dick,  had  been  unable  to  find  wood  or  water  that 
day,  so  he  was  obliged  to  encamp  upon  the  open  plain. 
The  want  of  water  was  not  seriously  felt,  however,  for 
he  had  prepared  a  bladder  in  which  he  always  carried 
enough  to  give  him  one  pannikin  of  hot  syrup,  and 
leave  a  mouthful  for  Crusoe  and  Charlie.  Dried  buffalo 
dung  formed  a  substitute  for  fuel.  Spreading  his 
buffalo  robe,  he  lit  his  fire,  put  on  his  pannikin  to  boil, 
and  stuck  up  a  piece  of  meat  to  roast,  to  the  great  de- 
light of  Crusoe  who  sat  looking  on  with  much  interest. 

Suddenly  Charlie,  who  was  picketed  a  few  hundred 
yards  off  in  a  grassy  spot,  broke  his  halter  close  by  the 
head-piece,  and  with  a  snort  of  delight  bounded  away, 
prancing  and  kicking  up  his  heels  ! 

Dick  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  for  he  felt  sure  that  his 
horse  was  gone.  However,  in  a  short  time  Charlie 
stopped,  and  raised  his  nose  high  in  the  air,  as  if  to  look 
for  his  old  equine  companions.  But  they  were  gone ;  no 
answering  neigh  replied  to  his;  and  he  felt,  probably 
for  the  first  time,  that  he  was  really  alone  in  the  world. 
Having  no  power  of  smell,  whereby  he  might  have 
traced  them  out  as  a  dog  would  have  done,  he  looked 


r 


Charlie's  doings. 


227 


in  a  bewildered  and  excited  state  all  round  the  horizon. 
Then  his  eye  fell  on  Dick  and  Crusoe  sitting  by  their 
little  fire.  Charlie  looked  hard  at  them,  and  then  again 
at  the  horizon ;  and  then,  coming  to  the  conclusion,  no 
doubt,  that  the  matter  was  quite  beyond  his  comprehen- 
sion, he  quietly  took  to  feeding. 

Dick  availed  himself  of  the  chance,  and  tried  to  catch 
him;  but  he  spent  an  hour  with  Crusoe  in  the  vaia 
attempt,  and  at  last  they  gave  it  up  in  disgust  and  re- 
turned to  the  fire,  where  they  finished  their  supper  and 
went  to  bed. 

Next  morning  they  saw  Charlie  feeding  close  at  hand ; 
so  they  took  breakfast,  and  tried  to  catch  him  again. 
But  it  was  of  no  use ;  he  was  evidently  coquetting  with 
them,  and  dodged  about  and  defied  their  utmost  efforts, 
for  there  was  only  a  few  inches  of  line  hanging  to  his 
head.  At  last  it  occurred  to  Dick  that  he  would  try 
the  experiment  of  forsaking  him.  So  he  packed  up  his 
things,  rolled  up  the  buffalo  robe,  threw  it  and  the  rifle 
on  his  shoulder,  and  Avalked  deliberately  away. 

"  Come  along,  Crusoe !  "  he  cried,  afler  walking  a  few 
paces. 

But  Crusoe  stood  by  the  fire  wiih  his  head  up,  and 
an  expression  on  his  face  that  said, "  Hollo,  man  !  what's 
wrong  ?  You've  forgot  Charlie !  Hold  on !  Are  you 
mad?" 

"  Come  here,  Crusoe ! "  cried  his  master  in  a  decided 
tone. 


228 


Charlie's  doings. 


^ 


Crusoe  obeyed  at  once.  Whatever  mistake  there 
might  be,  there  was  evidently  none  in  that  command; 
80  he  lowered  his  head  and  tail  humbly,  and  trotted  on 
with  his  master ;  but  he  perpetually  turned  his  head  as 
he  went,  first  on  this  side  and  then  on  that,  to  look  and 
wonder  at  Charlie. 

When  they  were  far  away  on  the  plain,  Charlie  sud- 
denly became  aware  that  something  was  wrong.  He 
trotted  to  the  brow  of  a  slope  with  his  head  and  tail 
very  high  up  indeed,  and  looked  after  them ;  then  he 
looked  at  the  fire  and  neighed ;  then  he  trotted  quickly 
up  to  it,  and  seeing  that  every  thing  was  gone,  he  began 
to  neigh  violently,  and  at  last  started  off  at  full  speed, 
and  overtook  his  friends,  passing  within  a  few  feet  of 
them,  and  wheeling  round  a  few  yards  off,  stood  trem- 
bling like  an  aspen  leaf. 

Dick  called  him  by  his  name  ana  idvancecT,  while 
Charlie  met  him  half-way,  and  allowed  himself  to  be 
saddled,  bridled,  and  mounted  forthwith. 

After  this  Dick  had  no  further  trouble  with  his  wild 
horse. 

At  his  next  campmg- place,  which  was  in  the  midst  of 
a  cluster  of  bushes  close  beside  a  creek,  Dick  came  un- 
expectedly upon  a  little  wooden  cross,  which  marked 
the  head  of  a  grave.  There  was  no  inscription  on  it, 
but  the  Christian  symbol  told  that  it  was  the  grave  of  a 
white  man.    It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  rush  of  min- 


THE    SOLITARY    GRA-VE. 


229 


gled  feelings  that  filled  the  soul  of  the  young  liunter  as 
he  leaned  on  the  mu/zle  of  his  rifle  and  looked  at  this 
fiolitury  resting-place  of  one  who,  doubtless  like  himself, 
had  been  a  roving  hunter.  Had  he  been  young  or  old 
when  he  fell  ?  —  had  he  a  mother  in  the  distant  settle- 
ment, who  watched,  and  longed,  and  waited  for  the  son 
that  was  never  more  to  gladden  her  eyes  ?  —  had  he 
been  murdered,  or  had  he  died  there  and  been  buried 
by  his  sorrowing  comrades?  These  and  a  thousand 
questions  passed  rapidly  through  his  mind  as  he  gazed 
at  the  little  cross. 

Suddenly  he  started.  "  Could  it  be  the  grave  of  Joe 
or  Henri  ?  "  For  an  instant  the  idea  sent  a  chill  to  his 
heart ;  but  it  passed  quickly,  for  a  second  glance  showed 
that  the  grave  was  old,  and  that  the  wooden  cross  had 
stood  over  it  for  years. 

Dick  turned  away  with  a  saddened  heart;  and  that 
night,  as  he  pored  over  the  pages  of  his  Bible,  his  mind 
was  filled  with  many  thoughts  about  eternity  and  the 
world  to  come.  He,  too,  must  come  to  the  grave  one 
day,  and  quit  the  beautiful  prairies  and  his  loved  rifle. 
It  was  a  sad  thought;  but  while  he  meditated  he 
thought  upon  his  mother  "  After  all,"  he  muimured, 
"there  must  be  happiness  without  the  rifle,  and  youth, 
and  heahh,  and  the  prairie!  My  mother's  .happy,  yet 
she  don't  shoot,  or  ride  like  wild-fire  over  the  plains." 
Then  that  word  which  had  been  sent  so  sweetly  to  him 

20 


230 


A   MISFORTUNE. 


through  her  hand  came  again  to  his  mind,  "  My  son, 
give  me  thine  heart ; "  and  as  he  read  God's  book,  he 
met  with  the  word,  "  Delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,  and 
he  shall  give  thee  the  desire  of  thine  heart."  "  The 
desire  of  thine  heart"  Dick  repeated  this,  and  pon- 
dered it  till  he  fell  asleep. 

A  misfortune  socn  after  this  befell  Dick  Varley,  which 
wellnigh  caused  him  to  give  way  to  despair.  For  some 
time  past  he  had  been  approaching  the  eastern  slopes 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  —  those  ragged,  jagged,  mighty 
hills,  which  run  through  the  whole  continent  from  north 
to  south  in  a  continuous  chain,  and  form,  as  it  were, 
the  back-bone  of  America.  One  morning,  as  he  threw 
the  buffalo  robe  off  his  shoulders  and  sat  up,  he  was 
horrified  to  find  the  whole  earth  covered  with  a  mantle 
of  snow.  We  say  he  was  horrified,  for  this  rendered  it 
absolutely  impossible  any  further  to  trace  his  compan- 
ions either  by  scent  or  sight. 

For  some  time  he  sat  musing  bitterly  on  his  sad 
fate,  while  his  dog  came  and  laid  his  head  sympathiz- 
ingly  on  his  arm. 

"Ah!  pup,"  he  said,  "I  know  ye'd  help  me  if  yo 
could !  But  it's  all  up  now ;  there's  no  chance  of  findin* 
them  —  none.' 

To  this  Crusoe  replied  by  a  low  whine.  He  knew 
full  well  that  something  distressed  his  master,  but  he 
hadn't  yet  ascertained  what  it  was.     As  something 


CRUSOE    AT    FAULT. 


231 


had  to  be  done,  Dick  put  the  buffalo  robe  on  his  steed, 
and,  mounting,  said,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  each 
morning,  "  Lead  on,  pup." 

Crusoe  put  his  nose  to  the  ground  and  ran  forward  a 
few  paces,  then  he  returned  and  ran  about  snuffing  and 
scraping  up  the  snow.  At  last  he  looked  up,  and  uttered 
a  long  melancholy  howl. 

"  Ah !  I  knowed  it,"  said  Dick,  pushing  forward. 
"  Come  on,  pup,  you'll  have  to  follow  now.     Any  way 


we  must  go  on. 


The  snow  that  had  fallen  was  not  deep  enough  to 
offer  the  slightest  obstruction  to  their  advance.  It  was, 
indeed,  only  one  of  those  occasional  showers  common  to 
that  part  of  the  country  in  the  late  autumn,  which 
season  had  now  crept  upon  Dick  almost  before  he  was 
aware  of  it,  and  he  fully  expected  that  it  would  melt 
away  in  a  few  days.  In  this  hope  he  kept  steadily 
advancing,  until  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  those 
rocky  fastnesses  which  divide  the  waters  that  flow  into 
the  Atlantic  from  those  that  flow  into  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Still  the  slight  crust  of  snow  lay  on  the  ground,  and  he 
had  no  means  of  knowing  whether  he  was  going  in  the 
right  direction  or  not. 

Game  was  abundant,  and  there  was  no  lack  of  wood 
now,  so  that  his  night  bivouac  was  not  so  cold  or  dreary 
as  might  have  been  expected. 

Travelling,  however,  had  become  difficult,  and  even 


^lii 


I 


t 

1 

If 

i  P 

4''e 

>:    \ 

^  ■;      1 

hi  'J 

i* 

f 

:■ 

rr 

1 1' 


it 


232 


THE    ROCKY    MOUNTAINS. 


dangerous,  owing  to  the  rugged  nature  of  the  ground 
over  which  lie  proceeded.  The  scenery  had  completely 
changed  in  its  character.  Dick  no  longer  coursed  over 
the  free,  open  plains,  but  he  passed  through  beautiful 
valleys  filled  with  luxuriant  trees,  and  hemmed  in  by 
stupendous  mountains,  whose  rugged  sides  rose  upward 
until  the  snow-clad  peaks  pierced  the  clouds. 

There  was  something  awful  in  these  dark  solitudes, 
quite  overwhelming  to  a  youth  of  Dick's  temperament ; 
his  heart  began  to  sink  lower  and  lower  every  day,  and 
the  utter  impossibility  of  making  up  his  mind  what  to 
do  became  at  length  agonizing.  To  have  turned  and 
gone  back  the  hundreds  of  miles  over  which  he  had 
travelled  would  have  caused  him  some  anxiety  under  any 
circumstances,  but  to  do  so  while  Joe  and  Henri  were 
either  wandering  about  there  or  in  the  power  of  the 
savages,  was,  he  felt,  out  of  the  question.  Yet,  in  which 
way  should  he  go?  Whatever  course  he  took  might 
lead  him  further  p,nd  further  away  from  them. 

In  this  dilemma  he  came  to  the  determination  of 
remaining  where  he  was,  at  least  until  the  snow  should 
leave  the  ground. 

He  felt  great  relief  even  when  this  hopeless  course 
was  decided  upon,  and  set  about  making  himself  an 
encampment  with  some  degree  of  cheerfulness.  When 
he  had  completed  this  task,  he  took  his  rifle,  and 
leaving  Charlie  picketed  in  the  centre  of  a  dell,  where 


A    GRIZZLY   BEAR. 


233 


might 


the  long,  rich  grass  rose  high  above  the  snow,  went  off 
to  hunt. 

On  turning  a  rocky  point  his  heart  suddenly  bounded 
into  his  throat,  for  there,  not  thirty  yards  distant,  stood 
a  huge  grizzly  bear ! 

Yes,  there  he  was  at  last,  the  monster  to  meet  which 
the  young  hunter  had  so  often  longed, — the  terrible 
size  and  fierceness  of  which  he  had  heard  so  often  spo- 
ken about  by  the  old  hunters.  There  it  stood  at  last ; 
but  little  did  Dick  Varley  think  that  the  first  time  he 
should  meet  with  his  foe  should  be  when  alone  in  the 
dark  recesses  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  with  none  to 
succor  him  in  the  event  of  the  battle  going  against  him. 
Yes !  there  was  one.  The  faithful  Crusoe  stood  by  his 
side,  with  his  hair  bristling,  all  his  formidable  teeth 
exposed,  and  his  eyes  glaring  in  their  sockets.  Alas ! 
for  poor  Crusoe,  had  he  gone  into  that  combat  alone. 
One  stroke  of  that  monster's  paw  would  have  burled 
him  dead  upon  the  ground. 

20* 


X 


if  !i 


r 


II 


^ 
I 


234 


THE    GRIZZLY   BEAR. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Dick's  First  Fight  with  a  Grizzly. — Adventure  with  a  Deer. — A 

Surprise. 

Tflre  is  no  animal  in  all  the  land  so  terrible  and 
dangerous  as  the  grizzly  bear.  Not  only  is  he  the 
lavgpofc  of  the  species  in  America,  but  he  is  the  fie:'cest, 
the  strongest,  and  the  most  tenacious  of  life,  facts 
which  are  so  well  understood  that  few  of  the  western 
hunters  like  to  meet  him  single-handed,  unless  they 
happen  to  be  first-rate  shots ;  and  the  Indians  deem 
the  encounter  so  dangerous,  that  to  wear  a  collar  com- 
posed of  the  claws  of  a  grizzly  bear  of  his  own  killing, 
is  counted  one  of  the  highest  honors  to  which  a  young 
warrior  can  attain. 

The  grizzly  bear  resembles  the  brown  bear  of  Europe, 
but  it  is  larger,  and  the  hair  is  long,  the  points  being 
of  a  paler  shade.  About  the  head  there  is  a  consider- 
able mixture  of  gray  hair,  giving  it  the  "  grizzly  "  appear- 
ance, from  which  it  derives  its  name.  The  claws  are 
dirty  white,  arched,  and  very  long,  and  so  strong  that 
when  the  animal  strikes  with  its  paw  they  cut  like  a 
chisel.     These  claws  are  not  embedded  in  the  paw,  as 


THE    GRIZZLY    BEAR. 


235 


is  tlie  case  with  the  cat,  but  always  project  far  beyond 
the  hair,  thus  giving  to  the  foot  a  very  ungainly  appear- 
ance; they  are  not  sufficiently  curved  to  enable  the 
grizzly  bear  to  climb  trees,  like  the  black  and  brown 
bears,  and  this  inability  on  their  part  is  often  the  only 
hope  of  the  pursued  hunter,  who,  if  he  succeeds  in 
ascending  a  tree,  is  safe,  for  the  time  at  least,  from  the 
bear's  assaults ;  but  "  Caleb  "  is  a  patient  creature,  and 
will  often  wait  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  for  many  hours  for 
his  victim. 

The  average  length  of  his  body  is  about  nine  feet, 
but  he  sometimes  attains  to  a  still  larger  growth. 
Caleb  is  more  carnivorous  in  his  habits  than  other 
bears ;  but,  like  them,  he  does  not  object  to  indulge 
occasionally  in  vegetable  diet,  being  partial  to  the  bird- 
cherry,  the  choke-berry,  and  various  shrubs.  He  has 
a  sweet  tooth,  too,  and  revels  in  honey  —  when  he  can 
get  it. 

The  instant  the  grizzly  bear  beheld  Dick  Varley 
standing  in  his  path,  he  rose  on  his  hind  legs,  and 
made  a  loud  hissing  noise,  like  a  man  breathing  quick, 
but  much  harsher.  To  this  Crusoe  replied  by  a  deep 
growl,  and  showing  the  utmost  extent  of  his  teeth, 
gums  and  all ;  and  Dick  cocked  both  barrels  of  his  rifle. 

To  say  that  Dick  Varley  felt  no  fear  would  be  simply 
to  make  him  out  that  sort  of  hero  which  does  not  exist 
in  nature,  namely  a  perfect  hero.     He  did  feel  a  sensa- 


!l    <B 


I 


ii\ 


.     i 


i  ■ 


i  I    \ 


m  ' 


»J4 


i 

rt 


'  236 


ADVENTURE    WITH   A   BEAR. 


tion  as  if  his  bowels  had  suddenly  melted  into  water  I 
Let  not  our  reader  think  the  worse  of  Dick  for  this. 
There  is  not  a  man  living  who,  having  met  with  a  huge 
grizzly  bear  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  in  a  wild,  soli- 
tary place,  all  alone,  has  not  experienced  some  such  sen- 
sation. There  was  no  cowardice  in  this  feeling.  Fear 
is  not  cowardice.  Acting  in  a  wrong  and  contemptible 
manner  because  of  our  fear,  is  cowardice. 

It  is  said  that  Wellington  or  Napoleon,  we  forget 
which,  once  stood  watching  the  muster  of  the  men  who 
were  to  form  the  forlorn  hope  in  storming  a  citadel. 
There  were  many  brave,  strong,  stalwart  men  there,  in 
the  prime  of  life,  and  flushed  with  the  blood  of  high 
health  and  courage.  There  were  also  there  a  few  stem-- 
browed  men  of  riper  years,  who  stood  perfectly  silent, 
with  lips  compressed,  and  as  pale  as  dea^.  "  Yonder 
veterans,"  said  the  general,  pointing  to  these  soldiers, 
"  are  men  whose  courage  I  can  depend  on ;  they  know 
what  they  are  going  to,  the  others  don't  /  "  Yes,  these 
young  soldiers  veri/  probably  were  brave ;  the  others 
certainly  were. 

Dick  Varley  stood  for  a  few  seconds  as  if  thunder- 
struck, while  the  bear  stood  hissing  at  him.  Then  the 
liquefaction  of  his  interior  ceased,  and  he  felt  a  glow  of 
fire  gush  through  his  veins.  Now,  Dick  knew  well 
enough  that  to  fly  from  a  grizzly  bear  was  the  sure  and 
certain  way  of  being  torn  to  pieces,  as  when  taken  thus 


ADVENTURE    WITH   A   BEAR. 


237 


by  surprise,  they  almost  invariably  follow  a  retreating 
enemy.  He  also  knew  that  if  he  stood  where  he  was, 
perfectly  still,  the  bear  would  get  uncomfortable  under 
his  stare,  and  would  retreat  from  him.  But  he  neither 
intended  to  run  away  himself,  nor  to  allow  the  bear  to 
do  so ;  he  intended  to  kill  it,  so  he  raised  his  rifle 
quickly,  "  drew  a  bead,"  as  the  hunters  express  it,  on 
the  bear's  heart,  and  fired. 

It  immediately  dropped  on  its  four  legs  and  rushed  at 
him. 

"  Back,  Crusoe,  oul  of  the  way,  pup,"  shouted  Dick, 
as  his  favorite  was  about  to  spring  forward. 

The  dog  retired,  and  Dick  leaped  behind  a  tree.  As 
the  bear  passed  he  gave  it  the  contents  of  the  second 
barrel  behind  the  shoulder,  which  brought  it  down  ;  but 
in  another  moment  it  rose  and  again  rushed  at  him. 
Dick  had  no  time  to  load,  neither  had  he  time  to  spring 
up  the  thick  tree  beside  which  he  stood,  and  the  rocky 
nature  of  the  ground  out  of  which  it  grew  rendered  it 
impossible  to  dodge  round  it.  His  only  resource  was 
flight;  but  where  was  he  to  fly  to?  If  he  ran  along 
the  oi.en  track,  the  bear  T-'ould  overtake  him  in  a  few 
seconds  ;  on  the  right  was  a  sheer  precipice,  a  hundred 
fct  t  high  ;  on  the  left  was  an  impenetrable  thicket.  In 
de-pair  lie  tiiougiit  for  an  instant  of  clubbing  his  rifle 
and  nieetiug  the  monster  in  close  conflict ;  but  the  utter 
hopelessness  of  sucii  an  effort  was  too  apparent  to  be 


'if. 


■  '     If 


2da 


ADVENTURE   WITH  A  BEAR. 


entertained  for  a  moment.  He  glanced  up  at  the  over- 
hanging cliflfs.  There  were  one  or  two  rents  and  pro- 
jections close  above  him.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
he  sprang  up  and  grasped  a  ledge  of  about  an  inch 
broad,  ten  or  twelve  feet  up,  to  which  he  clung  while 
he  glanced  upward.  Another  projection  was  within 
reach,  —  he  gained  it,  and  in  a  few  seconds  he  stood 
upon  a  ledge  about  twenty  feet  up  the  cliflP,  where  he 
had  just  room  to  plant  his  feet  firmly. 

Without  waiting  to  look  behind  he  seized  his  powder- 
horn  and  loaded  one  barrel  of  his  rifle ;  and  well  was  it 
for  him  that  his  early  training  had  fitted  him  to  do  this 
with  rapidity,  for  the  bear  dashed  up  the  precipice  after 
him  at  once.  The  first  time  it  missed  its  hold,  and  fell 
back  with  a  savage  growl,  but,  on  the  second  attempt,  it 
sunk  its  long  claws  into  the  fissures  between  the  rocks, 
and  ascended  steadily  till  within  a  foot  of  the  place 
where  Dick  stood. 

At  this  moment  Crusoe's  obedience  gave  way  before 
a  sense  of  Dick's  danger.  Uttering  one  of  his  lion-like 
roars,  he  rushed  up  the  precipice  with  such  violence 
that,  although  naturally  unable  to  climb,  he  reached  and 
seized  the  bear's  flank,  despite  his  master's  stern  order 
to  "  keep  back,"  and  in  a  moment  the  two  rolled  down 
the  face  of  the  rock  together,  just  as  Dick  completed 
loading. 

Knowing  that  one  stroke  of  the  bear's  paw  would  be 


f 


• ,  ia(ww.(l*S*i:!  -.iliiafts 


ADVENTURE    WITH   A    BEAR. 


239 


T^ 


certain  death  to  his  poor  dog,  Dick  leaped  from  his 
perch,  and,  with  one  bound  reached  the  ground  at  the 
same  moment  with  the  struggling  animals,  and  close 
beside  them,  and,  before  they  had  ceased  rolling,  he 
placed  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  into  the  bear's  ear,  and 
blew  out  its  brains. 

Crusoe,  strange  to  say,  escaped  with  only  one  scratch 
on  the  side.  It  was  a  deep  one,  but  not  dangerous,  and 
gave  him  but  little  pain  at  the  time,  although  it  caused 
him  many  a  smart  for  some  weeks  after. 

Thus  happily  ended  Dick's  first  encounter  with  a 
grizzly  bear ;  and  although,  in  the  course  of  his  wild 
life,  he  shot  many  specimens  of  "  Caleb,"  he  used  to  say 
that  "  he  an'  pup  were  never  so  near  goin*  under  as  on 
the  day  he  dropped  that  bar !  " 

Having  refreshed  himself  with  a  long  draught  from  a 
neighboring  rivulet,  and  washed  Crusoe's  wound,  Dick 
skinned  the  bear  on  the  spot. 

"  We  chawed  him  up  that  time,  didn't  we,  pup  ?  "  said 
Dick,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  as  he  surveyed  his 
prize.  • 

Crusoe  looked  up  and  assented  to  this. 

"  Gave  us  a  hard  tussle,  though ;  very  nigh  sent  us 
both  under,  didn't  he,  pup  ! " 

Crusoe  agreed  entirely,  and,  as  if  the  remark  reminded 
him  of  honorable  scars,  he  licked  his  wound. 


E  I 


'  if 


240 


A    COLLAR   WON. 


in 


"  Ah,  pup ! "  criyd  Dick,  syrapatbetically, "  does't  hurt 
ye,  eh,  poor  dog  ?  " 

Hurt  him !  such  a  questirn  I  No,  he  should  think 
not ;  better  ask  if  that  leap  from  the  precipice  hurt  your- 
self. 

So  Crusoe  might  liave  said,  but  he  didn't ;  he  took 
no  notice  of  the  remark  whatever. 

"  "We'll  cut  him  up  now,  pup,"  continued  Dick.  "  The 
skin'U  make  a  splendid  bed  for  you  an'  me  o' nights,  and 
a  saddle  for  Charlie." 

Dick  cut  out  all  the  claws  of  the  bear  by  the  roots,  and 
spent  the  remainder  of  that  night  in  cleaning  them  and 
stringing  them  on  a  strip  of  leather  to  form  a  necklace. 
Independently  of  the  value  of  these  enormous  claws 
(the  largest  as  long  as  a  man's  middle  finger)  as  an  evi- 
dence  of  prowess,  they  formed  a  remarkably  graceful 
collar,  which  Dick  wore  round  his  neck  ever  after  with 
as  much  pride  as  if  he  had  been  a  Pawnee  warrior. 

When  it  was  finished  he  held  it  out  at  arm's  length, 
and  said,  "  Crusoe,  my  pup,  ain't  ye  proud  of  it  ?  I'll 
tell  ye  what  it  is,  pup,  the  next  time  you  an'  I  floor 
Caleb,  I'll  put  the  claws  round  your  neck,  an'  make  ye 
wear  em  ever  arter,  so  I  will." 

The  dog  did  not  seem  quite  to  appreciate  this  piece 
of  prospective  good  fortune.  Vanity  had  no  place  in  his 
honest  breast,  and,  sooth  to  say,  it  had  not  a  large  place 


V 


A.   DEER   HUNT. 


241 


took 


piece 
his 


in 


plai 


ce 


in  that  of  his  master  cither,  as  wc  may  well  grant  when 
we  consider  that  this  first  display  of  it  was  on  the  occa- 
sion of  his  hunter's  soul  having  at  last  realized  its 
briglitest  day-dream. 

Dick's  dangers  .ind  triumphs  seemed  to  accumulate 
on  him  rather  thickly  at  this  place,  for  on  the  very  next 
day  he  had  a  narrow  escape  of  being  killed  by  a  deer. 
The  way  of  it  was  this. 

Having  run  short  of  meat,  and  not  being  particularly 
fond  of  grizzly  bear  steak,  he  shouldered  his  rifle  and 
sallied  forth  in  quest  of  game,  accompanied  by  Crusoe, 
whose  frequent  glances  towards  his  wounded  side 
showed  that,  whatever  may  have  been  the  case  the  day 
before,  it  "  hurt "  him  now. 

They  had  not  gone  far  when  they  came  on  the  track 
of  a  deer  in  the  snow,  and  followed  it  up  till  they  spied 
a  magnificent  buck  about  three  hundred  yards  off, 
standing  in  a  level  patch  of  ground  which  was  every- 
where surrounded  either  by  rocks  or  thicket.  It  was  a 
long  shot ;  but  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  rendered  it 
impossible  for  Dick  to  get  nearer  without  being  seen, 
he  fired,  and  wounded  the  buck  so  badly  that  he  came 
up  with  it  in  a  few  minutes.  The  snow  had  drifted  in 
the  place  Avhere  it  stood  bolt  upright,  ready  for  a  spring, 
so  Dick  went  round  a  little  way,  Crusoe  following,  till 
he  was  in  a  proper  position  to  fire  again.  Just  as  he 
pulled  the  trigger,  Crusoe  gave  a  howl  behind  him,  and 

21 


51. 


242 


FIGHT   WITH    A    DEER. 


I    1^ 


: ;  ■*: 


■^T'  i 


disturbed  his  nim,  so  he  feared  he  had  missed ;  but 
the  deer  fell,  and  he  hurried  towards  it.  On  coming 
up,  however,  the  buck  sprang  to  its  legs,  rushed  at  him 
with  its  hair  bristling,  knocked  him  down  in  the  snow, 
and  deliberately  commenced  stamping  him  to  death. 

Dick  was  stunned  for  a  moment,  and  lay  quite  still, 
60  the  deer  left  off  pommelling  him,  and  stooti  looking 
at  him..  But  the  instant  he  moved  it  plunged  at  him 
again  and  gave  him  another  pounding,  until  he  was  con- 
tent to  lie  still.  This  was  done  several  times,  and  Dick 
felt  his  strength  going  fast.  He  was  surprised  that  Cru- 
eoe  did  not  come  to  his  rescue,  and  once  he  cleared  his 
mouth  and  whistled  to  him ;  but  as  the  deer  gave 
him  another  pounding  for  this,  be  didn't  attempt  it 
again.  He  now  for  the  first  time  bethought  him  of  his 
knife,  and  quietly  drew  it  from  his  belt ;  but  the  deer 
observed  the  motion,  and  was  on  him  again  in  a  moment. 
Dick,  however,  sprang  up  on  his  left  elbow,  and,  making 
several  desperate  thrusts  upward,  succeeded  in  stabbing 
the  animal  to  the  heart. 

Rising  and  shaking  the  snow  from  his  garments,  he 
whistled  loudly  to  Crusoe,  and,  on  listening,  heard  him 
wh  aing  piteously.  He  hurried  to  the  place  whence 
^he  sound  came,  and  found  that  the  poor  dog  had  fallen 
mto  a  deep  pit  or  crevice  in  the  rocks,  which  had  been 
concealed  from  view  by  a  crust  of  snow,  and  he  was 
now  making  frantic  but  unavailing  efforts  to  leap  out. 


|!      > 


CRUSOE  8    MISHAP. 


243 


Dick  poon  freed  him  from  his  prison  by  means  of  his 
belt,  which  he  let  down  for  the  dog  to  grasp,  and  tlien 
returned  to  camp  with  as  much  deer-meat  as  he  could 
carry.  Dear  meat  it  certainly  was  to  him,  for  it  had 
nearly  cost  him  his  life,  and  left  him  all  black  and  blue 
for  weeks  after.  Happily  no  bones  were  broken,  so  the 
incident  only  confined  him  a  day  to  his  encampment. 

Soon  after  this  the  snow  fell  thicker  than  ever,  and 
it  became  evident  that  an  unusually  early  winter  was 
about  to  set  in  among  the  mountains.  This  was  a  ter- 
rible calamity,  for,  if  the  regular  snow  of  winter  set  in,  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  either  to  advance  or  retreat. 

While  he  was  sitting  on  his  bear-skin  by  the  camp- 
fire  one  day,  thinking  anxiously  what  he  should  do,  and 
feeling  that  ho  must  either  make  the  attempt  to  escape, 
or  perish  miserably  la  that  secluded  spot,  a  strange,  un- 
wonted sound  struck  upon  his  ear,  and  caused  both  him 
and  Crusoe  to  spring  violently  to  their  feet  and  listen. 
Could  he  be  dreaming?  it  seemed  like  the  sound  of 
human  voices.  For  a  moment  he  stood  with  his  eyes 
riveted  on  the  ground,  his  lips  apart,  and  his  nostrils 
distended,  as  he  listened  with  the  utmost  intensity. 
Then  he  darted  out  and  bounded  round  the  edge  of  a 
rock  which  concealed  an  extensive  but  narrow  valley 
from  his  view,  and  there,  to  his  amazement,  he  beheld 
a  band  of  about  a  hundred  human  beings  advancing  ou 
horseback  slowly  through  the  snow  I 


244: 


STRANGERS. 


m 


H 


'W  ^ 


h 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  Surprise  and  a  Piece  of  Good  News.  —  The  Fur  Traders. —  Crusoe 
proved,  and  the  Peigans  pursued. 

Dick's  first  and  most  natural  impulse,  on  beholding 
this  band,  was  to  mount  his  horse  and  fly,  for  his  mind 
naturally  enough  recurred  to  the  former  rough  treatment 
he  had  experienced  at  the  hands  of  Indians.  On  second 
thoughts,  however,  he  considered  it  wiser  t3  throw  him- 
self upon  the  hospitality  of  the  strangers ;  "for,"  thought 
he,  "  they  can  but  kill  me,  an'  if  I  remain  here  I'm  like 
to  die  at  any  rate." 

So  Dick  mounted  his  wild  horse,  grasped  his  rifle  in 
his  right  hand,  and,  followed  by  Crusoe,  galloped  full 
tilt  down  the  valley  to  meet  them. 

He  had  heard  enough  of  the  customs  of  savage  tribes, 
and  had  also  of  late  experienced  enough,  to  convince 
him  that  when  a  man  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  an 
overwhelming  force,  his  best  policy  was  to  assume  an 
air  of  confident  courage.  He  therefore  approached  them 
at  his  utmost  speed. 

The  effect  upon  the  advancing  band  was  electrical ; 
and  little  wonder,  for  th..*  young  hunter'3  appearance 


r  T'  M 


DICK  S    CHARGE. 


I 


245 


was  very  striking.  His  horse,  from  having  rested  a 
good  deal  of  late,  was  full  of  spirit;  its  neck  was 
arched,  its  nostrils  expanded,  and  its  mane  and  tail, 
never  having  been  checked  in  their  growth,  flew  wildly 
around  him  in  voluminous  curls.  Dick's  own  hair,  not 
having  been  clipped  for  many  months,  appeared  scarcely 
less  wild  as  they  thundered  down  the  rocky  pass  at 
what  appeared  a  break-neck  gallop.  Add  to  this  the 
grandeur  of  the  scene  out  of  which  they  sprang,  and  the 
gigantic  dog  that  bounded  by  his  side,  and  you  will  not 
be  surprised  to  hear  that  the  Indian  warriors  clustered 
togetber,  and  prepared  to  receive  this  bold  horseman  as 
if  he,  in  his  own  proper  person,  were  a  complete  squad- 
ron of  cavalry.  It  is  probable,  also,  that  they  fully  ex- 
pected the  tribe  of  which  Dick  was  the  chief  to  be  at 
his  heels. 

As  he  drew  near  the  excitement  among  the  strangers 
seemed  very  great,  and,  from  the  peculiarity  of  the 
various  cries  that  reached  him,  he  knew  that  there  were 
women  and  children  in  the  band  —  a  fact  which,  in  such 
a  place  and  at  such  a  season,  was  so  unnatural,  that  it 
surprised  him  very  much.  He  noted  also  that,  though 
the  men  in  front  were  Indians,  their  dresses  were  those 
of  trappers  and  hunters,  and  he  almost  leaped  out  of  his 
saddle  when  he  observed  that  "  Pale-faces  "  were  among 
them.  But  he  had  barely  time  to  note  these  facts  when 
he  was  up  with  the  band.     According  to  Indian  custom, 

21* 


H 


246 


THE   FUR   TRADERS. 


u  % 


h 


he  did  not  check  his  speed  till  he  was  within  four  or 
five  "^"rda  of  the  advance  guard,  who  stood  in  a  line  be- 
fore him,  quite  still,  and  with  their  rifles  lying  loosely 
in  their  left  palms ;  then  he  reined  his  steed  almost  on 
its  haunches. 

One  of  the  Indians  advanced  and  spoke  a  few  words 
in  a  language  which  was  quite  unintelligible  to  Dick, 
who  replied  in  the  little  Pawnee  he  could  muster,  that 
he  didn't  understand  him. 

"  Why,  you  must  be  a  trapper ! "  exclaimed  a  thick- 
Bet,  middle-aged  man,  riding  out  from  the  group.  "  Can 
you  speak  English  ?  " 

"  Ay,  that  can  I,"  cried  Dick,  joyf..lly,  riding  up  and 
shaking  the  stranger  heartily  by  the  hand ;  "  an'  right 
glad  am  I  to  fall  in  wi'  a  white-skin  an'  a  civil  tongue 
in  his  head." 

"  Good  sooth,  sir,"  replied  the  stranger,  with  a  quiet 
smile  on  his  kind,  weather-beaten  face,  "  I  can  return 
you  the  compliment,  for  when  I  saw  you  come  thun- 
dering down  the  corrie  with  that  wonderful  horse  and 
no  less  wonderful  dog  of  yours,  I  thought  you  were  the. 
wild  man  o'  the  mountain  himself,  and  had  an  ambush 
ready  to  back  you.  But,  young  man,  do  you  mean  to 
say  that  you  live  here  in  the  mountain  all  alone  after 
this  fushion  ?  " 

"  No,  that  I  don't.  I've  comed  here  in  my  travels ; 
but,  truly,  thif  bean't  my  home.     But,  sir  (for  I  see  you 


THE   FUR    TRADERS. 


247 


[avels ; 
?e  you 


are  what  the  fur-traders  call  a  bourgeois),  how  comes  it 
that  such  a  band  as  this  rides  i'  the  mountains  ?  D'ye 
mean  to  tay  that  they  live  here  ?  "  Dick  looked  round 
in  surprise,  as  he  spoke,  upon  the  crowd  of  mounted  men 
and  women,  with  children  and  pack-horses,  that  now 
surrounded  him. 

"  'Tis  a  fair  question,  lad.  I  am  a  principal  among 
the  fur-traders  whose  chief  trading-post  lies  near  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  on  the  west  side  of  these  mountains,  and 
I  have  come  with  these  trappers  and  their  families,  as 
you  see,  to  hunt  the  beaver  and  other  animals  for  a 
season  in  the  mountains.  We've  never  been  here  be- 
fore;  but  that's  a  matter  of  little  moment,  for  it's  not 
the  first  time  I've  been  on  what  may  be  called  a  dis- 
covery-trading expedition.  We  are  somewhat  entangled, 
however,  just  now,  among  these  wild  passes,  and,  if  you 
can  guide  us  out  of  our  difficulties  to  the  east  side  of 
the  mountains,  I'll  thank  you  heartily  and  pay  you 
well.  But  first  tell  me  who  and  what  you  are,  if  it's  a 
fair  question." 

"  My  name  is  Dick  Varley,  and  my  home's  in  the 
Mustang  Valley,  near  the  Missouri  River.  As  to  wJiat 
I  am  —  I'm  nothin'  yet,  but  I  hope  to  desarve  the  name 
o'  a  hunter  some  day.  I  can  guide  you  to  the  east  side 
o'  the  mountains,  for  I've  comed  from  there ;  but  more 
than  that  I  can't  do,  for  I'm  a  stranger  to  the  country 


248 


NEWS    OF   JOE   AND    HENRI. 


.'I 


here,  like  yourself.  But  you're  on  the  east  side  o'  the 
mountains  already,  if  I  mistake  not ;  only  these  moun- 
tains are  so  "rugged  and  jumbled  up,  that  it's  not  easy 
tellin'  where  ye  are.  And  what,"  continued  Dick, 
"may  be  the  name  o'  the  bourgeois  who  speaks  to 
me?" 

"  My  name  is  Cameron  —  Walter  Cameron  —  a  well- 
known  name  among  the  Scottish  hills,  although  it 
sounds  a  little  strange  here.  And  now,  young  man, 
will  you  join  my  party  as  guide,  and  afterwards  remain 
as  trapper?  It  will  pay  you  better,  I  think,  than  roving 
about  alone."  • 

Dick  shook  his  head,  and  looked  grave.  "  I'll  guide 
you,"  said  he,  "  as  far  as  my  knowledge  '11  help  me ; 
but  after  that  I  must  return  to  look  for  two  comrades 
whom  I  have  lost.  They  have  been  driven  into  the 
mountains  by  a  band  of  Injuns.  God  grant  they  may 
not  have  bin  scalped." 

The  trader's  face  looked  troubled,  and  he  spoke  with 
one  of  his  Indians  for  a  few  minutes  in  earnest,  hurried 
tones. 

"  What  were  they  like,  young  man  ?  " 

Dick  described  them. 

"The  same,"  continued  the  trader;  "they've  been 
seen,  lad,  not  more  than  two  days  ago,  by  this  Indian 
here,  when  he  was  out  hunting  alone  some  miles  away 


THE   FUR   TRADERS. 


249 


from  our  camp.  He  came  suddenly  on  a  band  of  In- 
dians, who  had  two  prisoners  with  them,  such  as  you 
describe.     They  were  stout,  said  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  both  of  them,"  cried  Dick,  listening  with  in- 
tense eagerness. 

"  Ay.  They  were  tied  to  their  horses,  an'  from  what 
I  know  of  these  fellows  I'm  sure  they're  doomed.  But 
I'll  help  you,  my  friend,  as  well  as  I  can.  They  can't 
be  far  from  this.  I  treated  my  Indian's  story  about 
them  as  a  mere  fabrication,  for  he's  the  most  notorious 
liar  in  my  company ;  but  he  seems  to  have  spoken  truth 
for  once." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  good  sir,"  cried  Dick.  "  Had  we 
not  best  turn  back  and  follow  them  at  once !  " 

"Nay,  friend,  not  quite  so  fast,"  replied  Cameron, 
pointing  to  his  people.  "  These  must  be  provided  for 
first,  but  I  shall  be  ready  before  the  sun  goes  down. 
And  now,  as  I  presume  you  don't  bivouac  in  the  snow, 
Avill  you  kindly  conduct  us  to  your  encampment,  if  it  be 
not  far  hence  ?  " 

Although  burning  with  impatience  to  fly  to  the  rescue 
of  his  friends,  Dick  felt  constrained  to  comply  with  so 
reasonable  a  request,  so  he  led  the  way  to  his  camping- 
place,  where  the  band  of  fur-traders  immediately  began 
to  pitch  their  tents,  cut  down  wood,  kindle  fires,  fill  their 
kettles  with  water,  cook  their  food,  and,  in  fact,  make 
themselves  comfortable.     The  wild  spot  which,  an  hour 


f 


250 


THE   FOB   TRADERS. 


before,  had  been  so  still,  and  grand,  and  gloomy,  was 
now,  as  if  by  magic,  transformed  into  a  bustling  village, 
with  bright  fires  blazing  among  the  rocks  and  bushes, 
and  merry  voices  of  men,  women,  and  children  ringing 
in  the  air.  It  seemed  almost  incredible,  and  no  wonder 
Dick,  in  his  bewilderment,  had  difficulty  in  believing  it 
was  not  all  a  dream. 

In  days  long  gone  by,  the  fur-trade  in  that  country 
was  carried  on  in  a  very  different  way  from  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  now  conducted.  These  wild  regions,  in- 
deed, are  still  as  lonesome  and  untenanted  (save  by 
wild  beasts  and  wandering  tribes  of  Indians),  as  they 
were  then ;  but  the  Indians  of  the  present  day  have 
become  accustomed  to  the  "  pale-faced "  trader,  whose 
little  wooden  forts  or  trading-posts  are  dotted  here  and 
there,  at  wide  intervals,  all  over  the  land.  But  in  the 
days  of  which  we  write  it  was  nut  so.  The  fur-traders 
at  that  time  went  forth  in  armed  bands  into  the  heart 
of  the  Indians'  country,  and,  he  who  went  forth  did  so 
"  with  his  life  in  his  hand."  As  in  the  case  of  the  soldier 
who  went  out  to  battle,  there  was  great  probability  that 
he  might  never  return. 

The  band  of  which  Walter  Cameron  was  the  chief 
had,  many  months  before,  started  from  one  of  the  dis- 
tant posts  of  Oregon  on  a  hunting  expedition  into  the 
then  totally  unknown  lands  of  the  Snake  Indians.  It 
consisted  of  about  sixty  men,  thirty  women,  and  as  many 


THE   FUR   TRADERS. 


251 


•lilef 
e  dis- 
to  the 
It 
many 


children  of  various  ages,  —  about  hundred  and  twenty 
souls  in  all.  Many  of  the  boys  were  capable  of  using 
the  gun  and  setting  a  beaver  trap.  The  men  were  a 
most  motley  set.  There  were  Canadians,  half-breeds, 
Iroquois,  and  Scotchmen.  Most  of  the  women  liad 
Indian  blood  in  their  veins,  and  a  few  were  pure  In- 
dians. 

The  equipment  of  this  strange  band  consisted  of  up- 
wards of  two  hundred  beaver-traps  —  which  are  similar 
to  our  rat-traps,  with  this  difference,  that  they  have  two 
springs  and  no  teeth — seventy  guns,  a  few  articles  for 
trade  with  the  Indians,  and  a  large  supply  of  powder 
and  ball ;  the  whole  —  men,  women,  children,  goods,  and 
chattels  —  being  carried  on  the  backs  of  nearly  four 
hundred  horses..  Many  of  these  horses  at  starting, 
were  not  laden,  being  designed  for  the  transport  of  furs 
that  were  to  be  taken  in  the  course  of  the  season. 

For  food  this  adventurous  party  depended  entirely 
on  their  guns,  and  during  the  march  hunters  were  kept 
constantly  out  ahead.  As  a  matter  of  course,  tl  ir 
living  was  precarious.  Sometimes  their  kettles  were 
overflowing ;  at  others  they  scarce  refrained  from  eat- 
ing their  horses.  But,  during  the  months  they  had 
already  spent  in  the  wilderness,  good  living  had  been 
the  rule,  starvation  the  exception.  They  had  already 
collected  a  large  quantity  of  beaver  skins,  which  at  that 


in  I 

nd 

i 


\ 


,r 


252 


THE   FUR   TRADERS. 


\ 


time  were  among  the  most  valuable  in  the  market, 
although  Ihcy  are  now  scarcely  salable  ! 

Having  shot  two  wild  horses,  seven  elks,  six  small 
deer,  and  four  big-horned  sheep,  the  day  before  they 
met  Dick  Varley,  the  camp  kettles  were  full,  and  the 
people  consequently  happy. 

"  Now,  Master  Dick  Varley,"  said  Cameron,  touch- 
ing the  young  hunter  on  the  shoulder  as  he  stood 
ready  equipped  by  one  of  the  camp  fires ;  "  I'm  at  your 
service.  The  people  won't  need  any  more  looking  after 
to-night.  I'll  divide  my  men  —  thirty  shall  go  after 
this  rascally  band  of  Peigans,  for  such  'I  believe  they 
are,  and  thirty  shall  remain  to  guard  the  camp.  Are 
you  ready?" 

"  Ready !  ay,  this  hour  past." 

"  Mount  then,  lad ;  the  men  have  already  been  told 
off  and  are  mustering  down  yonder  where  the  deer  gave 
you  such  a  licking." 

Dick  needed  no  second  bi^lding.  He  vaulted  on 
Charlie's  back  and  along  with  their  commander  joined 
the  men,  who  were  thirty  as  fine,  hardy,  reckless  look- 
ing fellows  as  one  could  desire  for  a  forlorn  hope.  They 
were  chatting  and  laughing  while  they  examined  their 
guns  and  saddle  girths.  Their  horses  were  sorry  look- 
ing animals  compared  with  the  magnificent  creature 
that  Dick  bestrode,  but  the;^  were  hardy,  nevertheless, 
and  well  fitted  for  their  peculiar  work. 


-m: 


DICK   SURPRISES   THE   TRADERS. 


253 


market, 

X  small 
ire  they 
and  the 

,  toueh- 
le  stood 
at  your 
ing  after 
go  after 
3ve  they 
p.    Are 


een  told 
eer  gave 

ilted  on 
r  joined 
ss  look- 
They 
ed  their 
ry  look- 
creature 
rtheless, 


"  My !  wot  a  blazer,"  exclaimed  a  trapper  as  Dick 
rode  up. 

"  Where  you  git  him  ?  "  inquired  a  half-breed. 

"  I  caught  him,"  answered  Dick. 

"  Baw ! "  cried  the  first  speaker. 

Dick  took  no  notice  of  this  last  remark. 

"  No,  did  ye  though  ?  "  he  asked  again. 

"  I  did,"  answered  Dick,  quietly ;  "  I  creased  him  in 
the  prairie  —  you  can  see  the  mark  on  his  neck  if  you 
look." 

The  men  began  to  feel  that  the  young  hunter  was 
perhaps  a  little  beyond  them  at  their  own  trade,  and  re- 
garded him  with  increased  respect. 

"  Look  sharp  now,  lads,"  said  Cameron,  impatiently, 
to  several  dilatory  members  of  the  band.  "  Night  will 
be  on  us  ere  long." 

"  Who  sold  ye  the  bear-claw  collar?  "  inquired  another 
man  of  Dick. 

"  I  didn't  buy  it.     I  killed  the  bear  and  made  it." 

"  Did  ye,  though,  all  be  yer  lone  ?  " 

"  Ay,  that  wasn't  much,  was  it  ?  " 

"  You've  begun  well,  yonker,  said  a  tall  middle-aged 
hunter,  whose  general  appearance  was  not  unlike  that 
of  Joe  Blunt.  "Jest  keep  clear  o'  the  Injuns  an'  the 
grog  bottle  an'  ye've  a  glor'ous  life  before  ye." 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
order  being  given  to  move  on,  which  was  obeyed  in 

22 


■']■  ill 


k 


;' 


:'l 


fi    I 


254 


CRUSOE    PROVED. 


silence,  and  tlie  cavalcade,  descending  the  valley,  entered 
one  of  the  gorges  in  the  mountains. 

For  the  first  half  mile  Cameron  rode  a  little  ahead  of 
his  men,  then  he  turned  to  speak  to  one  of  them  and  for 
the  first  time  observed  Crusoe  trotting  close  beside  his 
master's  horse. 

"Ah'!  Master  Dick,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  troubled 
expression,  "  that  won't  do.  It  would  never  do  to  take 
a  dog  on  an  expedition  like  this." 

"  Why  not  ? "  asked  Dick,  "  the  pup's  quiet  and  peace- 
able." 

"  I  doubt  it  not,  but  he  will  betray  our  presence  to 
the  Indians,  which  might  be  inconvenient." 

"  I've  travelled  more  than  a  thousand  miles  through 
prairie  and  forest,  among  game  an'  among  Injuns,  an* 
the  pup  never  betrayed  me  yet,"  said  Dick,  with  sup- 
pressed vehemence ;  "  he  has  saved  my  life  more  than 
once  though." 

"  You  seem  to  have  perfect  confidence  in  your  dog, 
but  as  this  is  a  serious  matter  you  must  not  expect  me 
to  share  in  it  without  proof  of  his  trust-worthinesss." 

"  The  pup  may  be  useful  to  us  j  how  would  you  have 
it  proved  ?  "  inquired  Dick. 

"  Any  way  you  like." 

"You  forgot  your  belt  at  starting,  I  think  I  heered 
ye  say." 

"  Yes,  I  did ; "  replied  the  trader,  smiling. 


CRUSOE   PROVED. 


255 


,  entered 

iiliead  of 
1  and  for 
L^side  his 

troubled 
o  to  take 

id  peace- 

?scnce  to 

through 
ijuns,  an* 
kvitli  Rup- 
lore  than 

our  dog, 
xpect  me 

lesss." 
>^ou  have 


I  heered 


. 


Dick  immediately  took  hold  of  Cameron's  coat,  and 
bade  Crusoe  smell  it,  which  the  dog  did  very  carefully. 
Then  he  showed  him  his  own  belt  and  said:  "  Go  back 
to  the  camp  and  fetch  it,  pup." 

Crusoe  was  off  in  a  moment,  and  in  less  than  twenty 
minutes  returned  with  Cameron's  belt  in  his  mouth. 

"Well,  I'll  trust  him,"  said  Cameron,  patting  Cru- 
soe's head.  "  Forward,  lads  I  "  and  away  they  went  at 
a  brisk  trot  along  the  bottom  of  a  beautiful  valley,  on 
each  side  of  which  the  mountains  towered  in  dark 
masses.  Soon  the  moon  rose  and  afforded  light  suffi- 
cient to  enable  them  to  travel  all  night  in  the  track  of 
the  Indian  hunter  who  said  he  had  seen  the  Peigans, 
and  who  was  constituted  guide  to  the  party.  Hour 
after  hour  the  horsemen  pressed  on  without  check,  now 
galloping  over  a  level  plain,  now  bounding  by  the  banks 
of  a  rivulet,  or  bending  their  heads  to  escape  the  boughs 
of  overhanging  trees,  and  anon  toiling  slowly  up  among 
the  rocks  of  some  narrow  defile.  At  last  the  moon  set, 
and  the  order  was  given  to  halt  in  a  little  plain  where 
there  was  wood  and  water. 

The  horses  were  picketed,  a  fire  kindled,  a  mouth- 
ful of  dried  meat  hastily  eaten,  the  watch  was  set,  and 
then  each  man  scraped  away  the  snow,  spread  some 
branches  on  the  ground,  and,  wrapping  himself  in  his 
blanket,  went  to  sleep  with  his  feet  presented  towards 
the  fire. 


f 


m 


t 

t 


1  ,1 

I?! 


25G 


THE    PURSUIT. 


Two  hours  were  allowed  for  rest;  then  they  were 
awakened  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  off  again  by  the 
gray  light  of  dawn.  In  this  way  they  travelled  two 
nights  and  a  day.  At  the  end  of  that  time  they  came 
suddenly  on  a  small  party  of  nine  Indians  who  were 
seated  on  the  ground  with  their  snow-shoes  and  blan- 
kets by  their  side.  They  had  evidently  been  taken  by 
surprise,  but  they  made  no  attempt  to  escape,  knowing 
that  it  was  useless.  Each  sat  still  with  his  bow  and 
arrows  between  his  legs  on  the  ground  ready  for  instant 
use. 

As  soon  as  Cameron  spoke,  however,  in  their  own 
language,  they  felt  relieved  and  began  to  talk. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from,  and  what  are  you  doing 
I'.are  ?  "  asked  the  trader. 

"  We  have  come  to  trade  with  the  white  men,"  one 
of  them  replied,  "  and  to  hunt.  We  have  come  from 
the  Missouri.     Our  country  is  far  away." 

"Do  Peigans  hunt  with  war-arrows?"  asked  Came- 
ron, pointing  to  their  weapons. 

This  question  seemed  to  perplex  them,  for  they  saw 
that  their  interrogator  knew  the  difference  between  a 
war  and  a  hunting  arrow  —  the  former  being  barbed  in 
order  to  render  its  extraction  from  the  wound  difficult, 
while  the  head  of  the  latter  is  round  and  can  be  drawn 
out  of  game  that  has  been  killed,  and  used  again. 

"  And  do  Peigans,"  continued  Cameron,  "  come  from 


^.j^.^j^^lS^SyS?' 


INDIAN   DECEPTION. 


257 


a  far  country  to  trade  witli  the  white  men  with  noth- 


ing 


9»» 


Again  the  Indians  were  silent,  for  they  had  not  an 
article  of  trade  about  them. 

Cameron  now  felt  convinced  that  this  party  of 
Peigans,  into  whose  hands  Joe  Blunt  and  Henri  had 
fallen,  were  nothing  else  than  n  war-i)arty,  and  that  the 
men  now  before  him  were  a  scouting  party  sent  out 
from  them,  probably  to  spy  out  his  own  camp,  on  the 
trail  of  which  they  had  fallen,  so  he  said  to  them  :  — 

"  The  Peigans  are  not  wise  men,  they  tell  lies  to  the 
traders.  I  will  tell  you  that  you  are  a  war-party,  and 
that  you  are  only  a  few  warriors  sent  out  to  spy  the 
traders'  camp.  You  have  also  two  pale-face  prisoners 
in  your  camp.  You  cannot  deceive  me.  It  is  useless 
to  try.  Now,  conduct  me  to  your  camp.  My  object  is 
not  war ;  it  is  peace.  I  will  speak  with  your  chiefs 
about  trading  with  the  white  men,  and  we  will  smoke 
the  pipe  of  peace.     Are  my  words  good  ?  " 

Despite  their  proverbial  control  of  muscle,  these 
Indians  could  not  conceal  their  astonishment  at  hearing 
BO  much  of  their  affairs  thus  laid  bare,  so  they  said 
that  the  Pale-face  chief  was  wise,  that  he  must  be  a 
great  medicine-man,  and  that  what  he  said  was  all  true 
except  about  the  white  men.  Tlvey  had  never  seen  any 
Pale-faces,  and  knew  nothing  whatever  about  those  he 
spoke  of. 

22* 


St.  Ml 


n 


258 


INDIAN   DECEPTION. 


k 


This  was  a  terrible  piece  of  news  to  poor  Dick,  and 
at  first  his  heart  fairly  sank  within  him,  but  by  degrees 
he  came  to  be  more  hopeful.  He  concluded  that  if 
these  men  told  lies  in  regard  to  one  thing  they  would 
do  it  in  regard  to  another,  and  perhaps  they  might  have 
some  strong  reason  for  denying  any  knowledge  of  Joe 
and  Henri. 

The  Indians  now  packed  up  the  buffalo  robes  on 
which  they  had  slept,  and  the  mouthful  of  provisions 
they  had  taken  with  them. 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  what  they  say  about  your 
friends,"  sivd  Cameron  to  Dick  in  a  low  tone  while  the 
Indicins  were  thus  engaged.  "  Depend  upon  it  they 
hope  to  liide  them  till  they  can  send  to  the  settlements 
and  get  a  ransom,  or  till  they  get  an  opportunity  of 
torturing  them  to  death  before  their  women  and  children 
when  tliey  get  back  to  their  own  village.  But  we'll 
baulk  tliem,  my  friend,  do  not  fear." 

The  Indians  were  soon  ready  to  start,  for  they  were 
lumbered  with  marvellously  little  camp  equipage.  In 
less  than  half  an  hour  after  their  discovery  they  were 
running  like  deer  ahead  of  the  cavalcade  in  the  direction 
of  the  Peigan  camp. 


THE   PEIGAN    CAMP. 


259 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Adventures  with  the  Peigans.  — Crusoe  does  good  Sr    -ice  as  a  Dis- 
coverer. —  The  Savages  outwitted.  —  The  Rescue. 

A  RUN  of  twenty  miles  brought  the  travellers  to  a 
rugged  defile  in  the  mountains,  from  which  they  had  u 
view  of  a  beautiful  valley  of  considerable  extent.  Dur- 
ing the  last  two  days  a  steady  thaw  had  been  rapidly 
melting  away  the  snow,  so  that  it  appeared  only  here 
and  there  in  the  landscape  in  dazzling  patches.  At  the 
distance  of  about  half  a  mile  from  whcie  they  halted 
to  breathe  the  horses  before  commencing  the  descent 
into  this  vale,  several  thin  wreaths  of  smoke  were  seen 
rising  above  the  trees. 

"  Is  that  your  camp  ?  "  inquired  Cameron,  riding  up 
to  the  Indian  runners  who  stood  in  a  group  in  front, 
looking  as  fresh  after  their  twenty  miles'  run  as  though 
they  had  only  had  a  short  walk. 

To  this  they  answered  in  the  affirmative,  adding  that 
there  were  about  two  hundred  Peigans  there. 

It  might  have  been  thought  that  thirty  men  would 
have  hesitated  to  venture  to  attack  so  large  a  number 
as  two  hundred ;  but  it  had  always  been  found  in  tho 


iSi^tL.' 


I 


260 


THE   TEIGAN    CAMP. 


i  I 


mn 


liii 


\ 


:    i 


experience  of  Indian  life,  thu  -  a  few  resolute  white  men 
well  armed  were  more  than  a  match  for  ten  times  their 
number  of  Indians  And  this  arose  not  so  much  from 
the  superior  strength  or  agility  of  the  whites  over  their 
red  foes,  as  from  that  bull-dog  courage  and  utter  reck- 
lessness of  their  lives  in  combat,  —  qualities  which  the 
crafty  savage  can  neither  imitate  nor  understand.  The 
information  was  received  with  perfect  indifference  by 
most  of  the  trappers,  and  with  contemptuous  laughter 
by  some,  for  a  large  number  of  Cameron's  men  were 
wild,  evil-disposed  fellows,  who  would  have  as  gladly 
taken  the  life  of  an  Indian  as  a  buffalo. 

Just  as  the  word  was  given  to  resume  the  march,  Dick 
Varley  rode  up  to  Cameron,  and  said  in  a  somewhat 
anxioL )  tone,  — 

"  D'ye  obsarve,  sir,  that  one  o'  the  Red-skins  has  gone 
off  ahead  o'  his  comrades." 

"  I  see  that.  Master  Dick,  and  it  was  a  mistake  of 
mine  not  to  have  stopped  him,  but  he  was  gone  too  far 
before  I  observed  it,  and  I  thought  it  better  to  appear 
unconcerned.  We  must  push  on,  though,  and  give  him 
as  short  time  as  possible  to  talk  with  his  comrades  in  the 
camp." 

The  trappers  pressed  forward  accordingly  at  a  gallop, 
and  were  soon  in  front  of  the  clump  of  trees  amongst 
which  the  Pelgans  were  oncLmped.  Their  approach 
had  evidently  spread  great  alai-m  among  them,  for  there 


THE   PEIGAN   CAIMP. 


261 


was  a  good  deal  of  bustle  and  running  to  and  fro,  but 
by  the  time  the  trappers  had  dismounted  and  advanced 
in  a  body  on  foot,  the  savages  had  resumed  their  usual 
quiet  dignity  of  appearance,  and  were  seated  calmly 
round  their  fires  with  their  bows  and  arrows  beside 
them.  There  were  no  tents,  no  women  or  children,  and 
the  general  aspect  of  the  men  showed  Cameron  conclu- 
sively that  his  surmise  about  their  being  a  war  party 
was  correct. 

A  council  was  immediately  called;  the  trappers 
ranged  themselves  on  one  side  of  the  council  fire  and 
the  Indians  on  the  other.  Meanwhile,  our  friend  Crusoe 
had  been  displaying  considerable  irritability  against  the 
Indians,  and  he  would  certainly  have  attacked  the  whole 
two  hundred  single-handed  if  he  had  not  hee\  ordered 
by  his  master  to  lie  still,  but  never  in  his  life  before  had 
Crusoe  obeyed  with  such  a  bad  grace.  He  bristled  and 
whined  in  a  low  tremulous  tone,  and  looked  imploringly 
at  Dick  as  if  for  permission  to  fly  at  them. 

"  The  Pale-faced  traders  are  glad  to  meet  with  the 
Peigans,"  began  Cajneron,  who  determined  to  make  no 
allusion  to  his  knowledge  that  they  were  a  war-party, 
"  for  they  wish  to  be  friends  with  all  the  children  of 
the  wocils  and  prairies.  They  wish  to  trade  with  them; 
to  exchange  blankets,  and  guns,  and  beads,  and  other 
goods  which  the  Peigans  require,  for  furs  of  animals 
which  the  Pale-faces  require." 


It 


262 


THE   PA.LAVER. 


"  Ho !  ho ! "  exclaimed  the  Indians ;  "which  expression 
might  be  translated,  "  Hear,  hear." 

"  But,"  continued  Cameron,  "  we  wish  to  have  no  war. 
"We  wish  to  see  the  hatchet  buried,  and  to  see  all  the 
red  men  and  tlie  white  mea  smoking  the  pipe  of  peace, 
and  hunting  like  brothers." 

Th(!  "  ITo — ho — ing"  at  this  was  very  emphatic. 

"  Now,"  resumed  the  trader,  "  the  Peigans  have  {jot 
two  prisoners  —  two  Pale-faces  —  in  their  camp,  and,  as 
we  cannot  be  on  good  terms  while  our  brothers  are  de- 
tained, v,3  have  come  to  ask  for  them,  and  to  present 
some  gifts  to  the  Peigans." 

To  this  there  w?s  no  "  Ho "  at  all,  but  a  prolonged 
silence,  which  was  at  length  interrupted  by  a  tall  chief 
stepping  forward  to  address  the  trappers. 

"  What  thf  Pale-face  chie<^  has  said  is  good,"  began 
the  Indian.  'His  word.:  are  wise,  and  his  heart  is  not 
double.  The  red  men  are  willing  to  smoke  the  pipe  of 
peace,  and  to  hunt  with  *,l  men  iia  brothers,  but  they 
cannot  do  it  while  many  of  their  scalps  are  hanging  in 
the  lodges  of  their  enemies  and  fringing  the  robes  of  the 
warriors.  Tiie  Peigans  must  have  v(  ^eance ;  then 
they  will  make  peace." 

After  a  short  pause  he  continued, — 

"  The  chief  is  wrong  when  he  says  there  are  Pale- 
faces in.  the  Peigan  camp.  The  Peigans  are  not  a^  war 
with  the  Pale-faces ;  neither  have  they  seen  any  on  their 


COMIXG  TO    THE  POINT. 


263 


£ 


march.  The  camp  is  open.  Let  the  Pale-faces  look 
round  and  s(^e  that  what  we  say  is  true." 

The  chief  waved  his  hand  towards  his  warriors  as  he 
concluded,  as  if  to  say,  "  Search  amongst  them.  There 
are  no  Pale-faces  there." 

Cameron  now  spoke  to  Dick  in  a  low  tone.  "  They 
speak  confidently,"  he  said,  "  and  I  fear  greatly  that 
your  poor  comrades  have  either  been  killed  or  conveyed 
away  from  the  camp  and  hidden  among  the  mountains, 
in  which  case,  even  though  they  should  not  be  far  off, 
it  would  be  next  to  impossible  to  find  them,  especially 
wdien  such  a  band  o'  rascals  is  near,  compelling  us  to 
keep  together.  But  Til  try  what  a  little  tempting  them 
v;ith  goods  will  do.  At  any  rate  we  shan't  give  in  with- 
out a  scuffle." 

It  now,  for  the  first  time,  flashed  across  Dick  Varley 
that  there  was  something  more  than  he  imagined  in 
Crusoe's  restless  anxiety,  which  had  not  in  the  least 
abated,  and  the  idea  of  making  use  of  him  now  occurred 
to  his  mind. 

"  I've  a  notion  that  I'll  settle  this  matter  in  a  shorter 
time  than  you  think,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  if  you'll  agree 
to  try  what  threatenina  wil!  do." 

The  trader  looked  grave  and  undecided.  "  I  never 
resort  to  that  except  as  a  last  hope/'  he  answered,  "  but 
I've  a  good  deal  of  confidence  la  your  prudence,  what 
would  you  advise  ?  " 


ill 


264 


COMING   TO    THE    POINT. 


is 


•5:   , 


Dick  and  the  trader  whispered  a  few  minutes  to- 
gether, while  some  of  the  men,  in  order  to  show  the 
Indians  how  perfectly  unconcerned  they  were,  and  how 
ready  for  any  thing,  took  out  their  pipes  and  began  to 
smoke.  Both  parties  were  seated  on  the  ground,  and 
during  this  interval  the  Indians  also  held  eager  discus- 
sion. 

At  length  Cameron  stood  up,  and  said  to  his  men  in 
a  quiet  tone,  "  Be  ready,  lads,  for  instant  action ;  when 
I  give  the  word  *  Up,'  spring  to  your  feet  and  cock  your 
guns,  but  don't  Jire  a  shot  till  you  get  the  word.  He 
then  stepped  forward  and  said,  — 

"  The  Peigan  warriors  are  double-tongued ;  they 
know  that  they  have  hid  the  Pale-ftice  prisoners.  We 
do  not  wish  to  quarrel,  but  if  they  are  not  delivered 
up  at  once,  the  Pale-faces  and  the  Peigans  will  not  be 
friends." 

Upon  this  the  Indian  chief  again  stood  forward  and 
said,  "The  Peigans  are  not  double-tongued.  They 
have  not  seen  Pale-faces  till  to-day.     They  can  say  no 


more. 


» 


Without  moving  hand  or  foot,  Cameron  then  said  in 
a  firm  tone,  "  The  first  Peigan  that  moves  shall  die ! 
Up,  lads,  and  ready ! " 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  the  trappers  sprang  to 
their  feet,  and  cocking  their  rifles  stood  perfectly  motion- 
less, scowling  at  the  savages,  who  were  completely  taken 


CAMERON  S    ENERGY. 


2G5 


by  surprise  at  the  unusual  suddenness  and  informality 
of  such  a  declaration  of  war.  Not  a  man  moved,  for, 
unlike  white  men,  they  seldom  risk  their  lives  in  open 
fight ;  and  as  they  looked  at  the  formidable  row  of  muz- 
zles that  waited  but  a  word  to  send  instant  death  into 
their  midst,  they  felt  that  discretion  was  at  that  time 
the  better  part  of  valor. 

"  Now,"  said  Cameron,  wliile  Dick  Varley  and  Crusoe 
stepped  up  beside  him,  "  my  young  warrior  will  search 
for  the  Pale-face  prisoners.  If  tJiey  are  found,  we  will 
take  them  and  go  away.  If  they  are  not  found,  we 
will  ask  the  Peigans  to  forgive  us,  and  will  give  them 
gifts.  But  in  the  mean  time,  if  a  Peigan  moves  from 
the  spot  where  he  sits,  or  lifts  a  bow,  my  young  men 
shall  fire,  and  the  Peigans  know  that  the  rifle  of  the 
Pale-face  always  kills." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  Dick  immediately 
said,  "  Seek  'em  out,  pup,"  and  Crusoe  bounded  away. 

For  a  few  moments  he  sprang  hither  and  thither 
through  the  camp,  quite  regardless  of  the  Indians,  and 
snuffed  the  air  several  times,  whining  in  an  excited  tone, 
as  if  to  relieve  his  feelings.  Then  he  put  his  nose  to 
the  ground  and  ran  straight  forward  into  the  vvoods. 
Dick  immediately  bounded  after  him  like  a  deer,  while 
the  trappers  kept  silent  guard  over  the  savages. 

For  some  time  Crusoe  ran  straight  forward.  Then 
he  came  to  a  spot  where  there  was  a  good  deal  of  drifted 


!l 


■fOI 


iv 


u 


2C6 


CRUSOE    RENDERS    GOOD    SERVICE. 


ml 


W 


snow  on  the  ground.  Here  he  seemed  to  lose  the  trail 
for  a  little,  and  ran  about  in  all  dircctiona,  whining  in  a 
most  piteous  tone. 

"  Seek  'em  out,  pup,"  repeated  Dick  encouragingly, 
while  his  own  breast  heaved  with  excitement  and  ex- 
pectation. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  dog  resumed  its  onward  course, 
and  led  the  way  into  a  wild,  dark  spot,  which  was  so 
overshadowed  by  trees  and  precipitous  cliffs  that  the  light 
of  the  sun  scarce  found  entrance.  There  were  many 
huge  masses  of  rock  scattered  over  the  ground,  which 
had  fallen  from  the  cliffs.  Behind  one  of  these  lay  a 
mound  of  dried  leaves,  towards  which  Crusoe  darted 
and  commenced  scraping  violently. 

Trembling  with  dread  that  he  should  find  this  to  be 
the  grave  of  his  murdered  companions,  Dick  rushed 
forward  and  hastily  cleared  away  the  leaves.  The  first 
handful  thrown  off  revealed  part  of  the  figure  of  a  man. 
Dick's  heart  beat  audibly  as  he  cleared  the  leaves  from 
the  face,  and  he  uttered  a  suppressed  cry  on  beholding 
the  well-known  features  of  Joe  Blunt !  But  they  were 
not  those  of  a  dead  man.  Joe's  eyes  met  his  with  a 
scowl  of  anger,  which  instantly  gave  place  to  one  of  in- 
tense surprise. 

"  Joe  Blunt ! "  exclaimed  Dick  in  a  voice  of  intense 
amazement,  while  Crusoe  snuffed  round  the  heap  of 
leaves,  and  whined  with  excitement.     But  Joe  did  not 


■ 


v2^ 


trail 


THE   RESCUE. 


267 


move,  neither  did  he  speak  a  word  in  reply  —  for  the 
very  good  reasons  that  his  mouth  was  tightly  bound 
with  a  bund  of  leather,  his  hands  and  feet  were  tied, 
and  his  whole  body  was  secured  in  a  rigid,  immovable 
position  by  being  bound  to  a  pole  of  about  his  own 
length. 

In  a  moment  Dick's  knife  was  out,  bands  and  cords 
were  severed,  and  Joe  Blunt  was  free. 

"  Thank  God,"  exclaimed  Joe  with  a  deep,  earnest 
sigh,  the  instant  his  lips  were  loosened,  "  and  thanks  to 
you,  lad,"  he  added,  endeavoring  to  rise,  but  his  limbs 
had  become  so  benumbed  in  consequence  of  the  cords 
by  which  they  had  been  compressed  that  for  some  time 
he  could  not  move. 

*'  I'll  rub  ye,  Joe  —  I'll  soon  rub  ye  into  a  right  state," 
said  Dick,  going  down  on  his  knees. 

"  No,  no,  lad,  look  sharp  and  dig  up  Henri.  He's 
just  beside  me  here." 

Dick  immediately  rose,  and,  pushing  aside  the  heap 
of  leaves,  found  Henri  securely  bound  in  the  same 
fashion.  But  he  could  scarce  refrain  from  laughing  at 
the  expression  of  that  worthy's  face.  Hearing  the  voices 
of  Joe  and  Dick  Varley  in  conversation,  though  unable 
to  see  their  persons,  he  was  filled  with  such  unbounded 
amazement  that  his  eyes,  when  uncovered,  were  found 
to  be  at  their  largest  possible  stretch,  and  as  for  the 


\i 


'':t 


i .  iff- 


2Gd 


THE   RESCUE. 


f 


il 


:  1 


eye-brows,  they  were  gone,  utterly  lost  among  the  roots 
of  his  voluminous  hair. 

"  Henri,  friend,  I  knew  I  should  find  ye,"  said  Dick, 
cutting  the  thongs  tliat  bound  him.  "  Get  up  if  ye  can, 
we  haven't  much  time  to  lose,  an'  mayhap  we'll  have  to 
fight  afore  we're  done  wi'  the  Red-skins.    Can  ye  rise  ?  " 

Henri  could  do  nothing  but  lie  on  his  back  and  gasp, 
"  Eh  !  possible  !  mon  frcre  I  Oh,  non,  non,  not  possible, 
Oui !  my  bruder  Deck  !  " 

Here  he  attempted  to  rise,  but,  being  unable,  fell 
buck  again,  and  the  whole  thing  came  so  suddenly,  and 
made  so  deep  an  impression  on  his  impulsive  mind, 
that  he  incontinently  burst  into  tears ;  then  he  burst  into 
a  long  laugh.  Suddenly  he  paused,  and  scrambling  up 
to  a  sitting  posture,  looked  earnestly  into  Dick's  face 
through  his  tearful  eyes. 

"  Oh,  non,  non  ! "  he  exclaimed,  stretching  himself 
out  at  full  length  again,  and  closing  his  eyes ;  "  it  are 
too  goot  to  be  true.  I  am  dream.  I  vill  wait  till  I  am 
wake." 

Dick,  roused  him  out  of  this  resolute  sleep,  however, 
somewliat  roughly.  Meanwhile  Joe  had  rubbed  and 
kicked  himself  into  a  state  of  animation,  exclaiming  that 
he  felt  as  if  he  wos  walkin'  on  a  thousand  needles  and 
pins,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  ready  to  accom- 
pany their  overjoyed  deliverer  back  to  the  Peigan  camp. 


mm 


THE    RESCUE. 


269 


Crusoe  testified  his  delight  in  various  elephantine  gam- 
bols round  the  persons  of  his  old  friends,  who  were  not 
slow  to  acknowledge  his  services. 

"  They  haven't  treated  us  overly  well,"  remarked  Joo 
Blunt,  as  tliey  strode  through  the  underwood. 

"Non,  de  rascale,  vraiment,  de  am  villains.  Qui! 
How  de  have  talk,  too,  'bout  —  oh-o-oo-ooo-wah  ! — 
roastin'  us  alive,  an'  puttin'  our  scalp  in  de  vigvam  for 
de  poopoose  to  play  wid  !  " 

"  Well,  niver  mind,  Henri,  we'll  be  quits  wi'  them 
now,"  said  Joe,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the  two  bands, 
who  remained  in  precisely  the  same  position  in  which 
they  had  been  left,  except  that  one  or  two  of  the  more 
reckless  of  the  trappers  had  lit  their  pipes  and  taken  to 
smoking,  without,  however,  laying  down  their  rifles  or 
taking  their  eyes  off  the  savages. 

A  loud  cheer  greeted  the  arrival  of  the  prisoners,  and 
.looks  of  considerable  discomfort  began  to  be  evinced  by 
the  Indians. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  friends,"  said  Cameron,  as  they 
came  up. 

"  Ve  is  'appy  ov  de  same,"  replied  Henri,  swaggering 
up  in  the  joviality  of  his  heart,  and  seizing  the  trader's 
hand  in  his  own  enormous  fist.  "  Shall  ve  go  to  work 
an'  slay  dem  all  at  vonce,  or  von  at  a  time  ?  " 

<'  We'll  consider  that  afterwards,  my  lad.     Meantime 

go  you  to  the  rear,  and  get  a  weapon  of  some  sort." 

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270 


THE   RESCUE. 


"  Oui.  Ah !  c'est  charmant,"  he  cried,  going  with  an 
immense  flounder  into  the  midst  of  the  amused  trappers, 
and  slapping  those  next  to  him  on  the  back.  "  Give  me 
veapon,  do,  mes  ami  —  gun,  pistol,  any  ting  —  cannon, 
if  you  have  von." 

Meanwhile  Cameron  and  Joe  spoke  together  for  a  few 
moments. 

"  You  had  goods  with  you,  and  horses,  I  believe,  when 
you  were  captured,"  said  the  former. 

"  Ay,  that  we  had.  Yonder  stand  the  horses  under 
the  pine-tree,  along  wi'  the  rest  o'  the  Red-skin  troop, 
an'  a  hard  time  they've  had  o't,  as  their  bones  may  tell 
without  speakin'.  As  for  the  goods,"  he  continued, 
glancing  round  the  camp,  "  I  don't  know  where  —  ah  1 
yes>  there  they  be  in  the  old  pack.     I  see  all  safe." 

Cameron  now  addressed  the  Indians. 

"  The  Peigaus,"  he  said,  "  have  not  done  well.  Their 
hearts  have  not  been  true  to  the  Pale-faces.  Even  now 
I  could  take  your  scalps  where  you  sit ;  but  white  men 
do  not  like  war,  they  do  not  like  revenge.  The  Peigans 
may  go  free." 

Considering  the  fewness  of  their  numbers,  this  was. 
bold  language  to  use  towards  the  Indians;  but  the 
boldest  Js  generally  the  best  policy  on  such  occasions. 
Moreover,  Cameron  felt  that,  being  armed  with  rifles, 
while  the  Indians  had  only  bows  and  arrows,  the  trap- 
pers had  a  great  advantage  over  them. 


A 


'    I 


JOE   RETURNS    GOOD    FOR    EVIL. 


271 


.1 


The  Indian  who  had  spoken  before  now  rose  and  said 
he  was  k?orvv  there  should  be  any  cause  of  difference 
between  them,  and  added  he  was  sorry  for  a  great  many 
more  things  besides,  but  he  did  not  say  he  was  sorry 
for  having  told  a  lie. 

"  But,  before  you  go,  you  must  deliver  up  the  horses 
and  goods  belonging  to  these  men,"  said  Cameron,  point- 
ing io  Joe  and  Henri. 

This  was  agreed  to.  The  horses  were  led  out,  the 
two  little  packs  containing  Joe's  goods  were  strapped 
upon  them,  and  then  the  trappers  turned  to  depart.  The 
Indians  did  not  move  until  they  had  mounted ;  then  they 
rose  and  advanced  in  a  body  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  to 
see  the  Pale-faces  go  away.  Meanwhile  Joe  spoke  a 
few  words  to  Cameron,  and  the  men  were  ordered  to 
hilt,  while  the  former  dismounted  and  led  his  horse 
towards  the  band  of  savages. 

"  Peigans,"  he  said,  "you  know  the  object  for  which 
I  came  into  this  country  was  to  make  peace  between 
you  and  the  Pale-faces.  I  have  often  told  you  so  when 
you  would  not  listen,  and  when  you  told  me  that  I  had 
a  double  heart,  and  told  lies.  You  were  wrong  when 
you  said  this ;  but  I  do  not  wonder,  for  you  live  among 
nations  who  do  not  fear  God,  and  who  think  it  right  to 
lie.  I  now  repeat  to  you  what  I  said  before.  It 
would  be  good  for  the  Red-men  if  they  would  make 
peace  with  the  Pale-faces,  toid  if  they  would  make 


272 


AMICAELE   PARTING. 


peace  with  each  other.  I  will  now  convince  you  that 
I  am  in  earnest,  and  have  all  along  been  speaking  the 
truth." 

Hereupon  Joe  Blunt  opened  his  brndle  of  goods,  and 
presented  fully  one  half  of  the  gaudy  and  brilliant  con- 
tents to  the  astonished  Indians,  who  seemed  quite  taken 
aback  by  such  generous  treatment.  The  result  of  this 
was  that  the  two  parties  separated  with  mutual  expres- 
sions of  esteem  and  good-will.  The  Indians  then  returned 
to  the  forest,  and  the  white  men  galloped  back  to  their 
camp  among  the  hills. 


i 


^^^^^B 


IB 


NEW  PLANS. 


273 


CHAPTER   XX. 


.1 


New  Plans.  —  Our  Travellers  join  the  Fur  Trtulers,  and  see  many 
Strange  Things. —A  Curious  Fight.  — A  Narrow  Escape,  and  a 
Prsoner  taken. 

Not  long  after  the  events  related  in  the  last  chapter, 
our  four  friends,  Dick,  and  Joe,  and  Henri,  and  Crusoe, 
a,greed  to  become  for  a  time  members  of  Walter  Cam- 
eron's band  of  trappers.  Joe  joined  because  one  of  the 
objects  which  the  traders  had  in  view  was  similar  to  his 
own  mission,  namely,  the  promoting  of  peace  among  the 
various  Indian  tribes  of  the  mountains  and  plains  to  the 
west.  Joe,  therefore,  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  of 
travelling  with  a  band  of  men  who  could  secure  him  a 
favorable  hearing  from  the  Indian  tribes  they  might 
chance  to  meet  with  in  the  course  of  their  Avanderinffs. 
Pesides,  as  the  traders  carried  about  a  large  supply  of 
goods  with  them,  he  could  easily  replenish  his  own 
nearly  exhausted  pack  by  hunting  wild  animals  and 
exchanging  their  skins  for  such  articles  as  he  might 
require. 

Dick  joined  because  it  afforded  him  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  the  wild,  majestic  scenery  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 


274 


NKTV  PLANS. 


i^ 


tains,  and  shooting  the  big-homed  sheep  which  abounded 
there,  and  the  grizzly  "  bars,"  as  Joe  named  them,  or 
"  Caleb,"  as  they  were  more  frequently  styled  by  Henri 
and  the  other  men. 

Henri  joined  because  it  was  agreeable  to  the  inclina- 
tion of  his  own  rollicking,  blundering,  floundering,  crash- 
ing disposition,  and  because  he  would  have  joined  any 
thing  that  had  been  joined  by  the  other  two. 

Crusoe's  reason  for  joining  was  single,  simple,  easy  to 
be  expressed,  easy  to  be  understood,  and  commendable. 
He  joined  —  because  Dick  did. 

The  very  day  after  the  party  left  the  encampment 
where  Dick  had  shot  the  grizzly  bear  and  the  deer,  he 
had  the  satisfaction  of  bringing  down  a  splendid  speci- 
men of  the  big-horned  sheep.  It  came  suddenly  out 
from  a  gorge  of  the  mountain,  and  stood  upon  the  giddy 
edge  of  a  tremendous  precipice,  at  a  distance  of  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  yards. 

"  Tou  could  not  hit  that,"  said  a  trapper  to  Henri, 
who  was  rather  fond  of  jeering  him  about  his  short- 
sightedness. 

"  Non ! "  cried  Henri,  who  didn't  see  the  animal  in 
the  least ;  "  say  you  dat  ?  ve  shall  see ; "  and  he  let  fly 
with  a  promptitude  that  amazed  his  comrades,  and  with 
a  result  that  drew  from  them  peals  of  laughter. 

"  Why,  you  have  missed  the  mountain  ! " 

"  Oh,  non !  dat  am  eempossoble," 


m 


■^  I 


BIG-HORNED     SHEIIP. 


275 


It  was  true,  nevertheless,  for  his  ball  had  been  ar- 
rested in  its  flight  by  the  stem  of  a  tree  not  twenty 
yards  before  him. 

While  the  shot  was  yet  ringing,  and  before  the  laugh 
above  referred  to  had  pealed  forth,  Dick  Varley  fired, 
and  the  animal,  springing  wildly  into  the  air,  fell  down 
the  precipice,  and  was  almost  dashed  to  pieces  at  their 
feet. 

This  Rocky  Mountain  or  big-horned  sheep  was  a 
particularly  large  and  fine  one,  but,  being  a  patriarch 
of  the  flock,  was  not  well  suited  for  food.  It  was  con- 
siderably larger  in  size  than  the  domestic  sheep,  and 
might  be  described  as  somewhat  resembling  a  deer  in 
the  body  and  a  ram  in  the  head.  Its  horns  were  the 
chief  point  of  int<  rest  to  Dick ;  and,  truly,  they  were 
astounding  ?  Their  enormous  size  was  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  the  animal's  body,  and  they  curved  backwards 
and  downwards,  and  then  curled  up  again  in  a  sharp 
point.  These  creatures  frequent  the  inaccessible  heights 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  a^-e  difficult  to  approach. 
They  have  a  great  fondness  for  salt,  and  pay  regular 
visits  to  the  numerous  caverns  of  these  mountains, 
which  are  encrusted  with  a  saline  substance. 

Walter  Cameron  now  changed  his  intention  of  pro- 
ceeding to  the  eastward,  as  he  found  the  country  not 
60  full  of  beaver  at  that  particular  spot  as  he  had  antici- 
pated.   He  therefore  turned  towards  the  west,  penetrated 


'4  1-^ 

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If 

i 

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it 

276 


THE   PUR   TRADE. 


into  the  interior  of  the  mountains,  and  took  a  consider- 
able sweep  through  the  lovely  valleys  on  their  western 
slopes. 

The  expedition  which  this  enterprising  fur-trader  was 
conducting,  was  one  of  the  first  that  ever  penetrated 
these  wild  regions  in  search  of  furs.  The  ground  over 
which  they  travelled  was  quite  new  to  them,  and,  having 
no  guide,  they  just  moved  about  at  hap-hazard,  encamp- 
ing on  the  margin  of  every  stream  or  river  on  which 
signs  of  the  presence  of  beaver  were  discovered,  and 
setting  their  traps. 

Beaver  skins  at  this  time  were  worth  25s.  a  piece  in 
the  markets  of  civilized  lands,  and  in  the  Snake  coun- 
try, through  which  our  friends  were  travelling,  thou- 
sands of  them  were  to  be  had  from  the  Indians  for  trin- 
kets and  baubles  that  were  scarce  wcrtl-  a  farthing.  A 
beaver  skin  could  be  procured  frcm  the  Indians  for  a 
brass  finger  ring  or  .*  penny  looking-glass.  Horses  were 
also  so  numerous  that  one  could  be  procured  for  an  axe 
or  r.  knife. 

Let  not  the  reader,  however,  hastily  conclude  that 
the  traders  cheated  the  Indians  in  this  traffic,  though 
the  profits  were  so  enormous.  The  ring  or  the  axe  was 
indeed  a  trifle  to  the  trader,  but  the  beaver  skin  and 
the  horse  were  equally  trifles  to  the  savage,  who  could 
procure  as  many  of  them  as  he  chose  with  very  little 
trouble,  whilo  the  ring  and  the  axe  were  in  his  estima- 


THE   ROCKY   MOUNTAINS. 


277 


lonsider- 
western 

ider  was 
net  rated 
md  over 
I,  having 
eucarap- 
)n  which 
(red,  and 

piece  in 
ke  coun- 
ig,  thou- 
for  trin- 
ling.  A 
ms  for  ,1 
'ses  were 
ir  an  axe 

ude  that 
c,  though 
axe  was 
skin  and 
,'ho  could 
ery  little 
is  estima- 


tion of  priceless  value.  Besides,  be  it  remembered,  to 
carry  that  ring  and  that  axe  to  the  far  distant  haunts  of 
the  Red-man  cost  the  trader  weeks  and  months  of  con- 
stant toil,  trouble,  anxiety,  and,  alas !  too  frequently  cost 
him  his  life !  The  state  of  trade  is  considerably  modi- 
fied in  these  regions  at  the  present  day.  It  was  not 
more  justly  conducted,  for,  in  respect  of  the  value  of 
goods  given  for  furs,  it  was  justly  conducted  then,  but 
time  and  circumstances  have  tended  more  to  equalize 
the  relative  values  of  article?  of  trade. 

The  snow  which  had  prematurely  fallen  had  passed 
away,  and  the  trappers  now  found  themselves  wander- 
ing about  in  a  country  so  beautiful  and  a  season  so  de- 
lightful, that  it  would  have  seemed  to  them  a  perfect 
paradise,  but  for  the  savage  tribes  who  hovered  about 
them,  and  kept  them  ever  on  the  qui  vive. 

They  soon  passed  from  the  immediate  embrace  of 
stupendous  heights  and  dark  gorges  to  a  land  of  slop- 
ing ridges,  which  divided  the  country  into  a  hundred 
luxuriant  vales,  composed  part  of  woodland  and  part  of 
prairie.  Through  these  numerous  rivers  and  streams 
flowed  deviously,  beautifying  the  landscape  and  enrich- 
ing the  land.  There  were  also  many  lakes  of  all  sizes, 
and  these  swarmed  with  fish,  while  in  some  of  them  were 
found  the  much  sought  after  and  highly  esteemed  beaver.. 
Salt  springs  and  hot  springs  of  various  temperatures 
abounded  here,  and  many  of  the  latter  were  so  hot  that 

21 


278 


THE   EOCKT  MOUNTAINS. 


f 


I  F 


meat  could  he  boiled  in  them.  Salt  existed  in  all 
directions  in  abundance,  and  of  good  quality.  A  sul- 
phurous spring  was  also  discovered,  bubbling  out  from 
the  base  of  a  perpendicular  rock  three  hundred  feet 
high,  the  waters  of  which  were  dark-blue,  and  tasted 
like  gunpowder.  In  short,  the  land  presented  every 
variety  of  feature  calculated  to  charm  the  imagination 
and  deligl>t  the  eye. 

It  was  a  mysterious  land,  too,  for  broad  rivers  burst 
in  many  places  from  the  earth,  flowed  on  a  short  space^ 
and  then  disappeared  as  if  by  magic  into  the  earth  from 
which  they  rose.  Natural  bridges  spanned  the  tor- 
rents in  many  places,  and  some  of  these  were  so  cor- 
rectly formed  that  it  was  difficult  to  believe  they  had 
not  been  built  by  the  hand  of  man.  They  often 
appeared  opportunely  to  our  trappers,  and  saved  them 
the  trouble  and  danger  of  fording  rivers.  Frequently 
the  whole  band  would  stop  in  silent  wonder  and  awe  a3 
they  listened  to  the  rushing  of  waters  under  their  feet, 
as  if  another  world  of  streams,  and  rapids,  and  cataracts 
were  flowing  below  the  crust  of  earth  on  which  they 
stood.  Some  considerable  streams  were  likewise  ob- 
served to  gush  from  the  faces  of  precipices,  some  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  from  their  summits,  while  on  the  top  no 
water  was  to  be  seen. 

Wild  berries  of  all  kinds  were  found  in  abundance, 
and  wild  vegetables,  besides   many  nutritious    roots. 


jblKDBf   BEASTS,   AND   FISHES. 


279 


ed  in  all 
.  A  sul- 
out  from 
dred  feet 
nd  tasted 
ied  every 
lagination 

'ers  burst 
ort  space, 
arth  from 
the  tor- 
e  so  cor- 
they  had 
ley  often 
ved  them 
requently 
id  awe  as 
their  feet, 
cataracts 
lich  they 
iwise  ob- 
le  twenty 
le  top  no 

)undance, 
us    roots. 


Among  other  lish  splendid  salmon  were  found  in  the 
lakes  and  rivers ;  and  animal  life  swarmed  on  hill  and 
dale.  Woods  and  valleys,  plains  and  ravines,  teemed 
with  it.  On  every  plain  the  red-deer  grazed  in  herds 
by  the  banks  of  lak^'  ^nd  stream ;  wlierever  there  were 
clusters  of  poplar  and  elder-trees  and  saplings,  the 
beaver  was  seen  nibbling  industriously  with  his  sharp 
teeth,  and  committing  as  much  havoc  in  the  forests  as  if 
they  had  been  armed  with  the  woodman's  axe ;  otters 
sported  in  the  eddies ;  racoons  sat  in  the  tree-tops ;  the 
martin,  the  black  fox,  and  the  wolf,  prowled  in  the  woods 
in  quest  of  prey ;  mountain  sheep  and  goats  browsed 
on  the  rocky  ridges,  and  badgers  peeped  from  their 
holes. 

Here,  too,  the  wild  horse  sprang  snorting  and  di- 
shevelled from  his  mountain  retreats  —  with  flourishins 
mane  and  tail,  spanking  step,  and  questioning  gaze,  — 
and  thundered  away  over  the  plains  and  valleys,  while 
the  rocks  echoed  back  his  shrill  neigh.  The  huge, 
heavy,  ungainly  elk,  or  moose-deer,  trotted  away  from 
the  travellers  with  speed  equal  to  that  of  the  mustang. 
Elks  seldom  gallop ;  their  best  speed  is  attained  at  the 
trot.  Bears,  too,  black,  and  brown,  and  grizzly,  roamed 
about  everywhere. 

So  numerous  were  all  these  creatures,  that  on  one 
occasion  the  hunters  of  the  party  brought  in  six  wild 
horses,  three  bears,  four  elks,  and  tliirty  red-deer;  hav- 


280 


8AVAOE8. 


ing  shot  them  all  a  short  distance  ahead  of  the  main 
body,  and  almost  without  diverging  from  the  line  of 
inarch.  And  this  was  a  matter  of  every  day  occurrence 
—  as  it  had  need  to  be,  considering;  *'\e  number  of  mouths 
that  had  to  bo  filled. 

Thtt  feathered  tribes  were  not  less  numerous.  Chief 
among  these  were  eagles  and  vultures  of  uncommon 
size,  the  wild  goose,  wild  duck,  and  the  majestic  swan. 

In  the  midst  of  such  profusion  the  trappers  spent  a 
happy  time  of  it,  when  not  molested  by  the  savages,  but 
they  frequently  lost  a  horse  or  two  in  consequence  of 
the  expertness  of  these  thievish  fellows.  They  often 
wandered,  however,  for  days  at  a  time  without  seeing 
an  Indian,  and  at  such  times  they  enjoyed  to  the  full 
the  luxuries  with  which  a  bountiful  God  had  blessed 
these  romantic  regions. 

Dick  Varley  was  almost  wild  with  delight.  It  was 
his  first  excursion  into  the  remote  wilderness;  he  was 
young,  healthy,  strong,  and  romantic ;  and  it  is  a  ques- 
tion whether  his  or  his  dog's  heart,  or  that  of  the  noble 
wild  horse  he  bestrode,  bounded  most  with  joy  at  the 
glorious  sights,  and  sounds,  and  influences  by  which  they 
were  surrounded.  It  would  have  been  perfection  had  it 
not  been  for  the  frequent  annoyance  and  alarms  caused 
by  the  Indians. 

Alas  !  alas !  that  we  who  write  and  read  about  those 
wondrous  scenes  should  have  to  condemn  our  own  spe- 


TRAPPING. 


281 


cies  as  the  most  degraded  of  all  the  works  of  the  Creator 
there !  Yet  so  it  is.  Man,  exercising  his  reason  and 
conscience  in  the  path  of  love  and  duty  which  his 
Creator  points  out,  is  God's  noblest  work ;  but  man,  left 
to  the  freedom  of  his  own  fallen  will,  sinks  morally 
lower  than  the  beasts  that  perish.  Well  may  every 
Christian  wish  and  pray  that  the  name  and  the  gospel 
of  the  blessed  Jesus  may  be  sent  speedily  to  the  dark 
places  of  the  earth ;  for  you  may  read  of,  and  talk  about, 
but  you  cannot  conceive  the  fiendish  wickedness  and 
cruelty  which  causes  tearless  eyes  to  glare,  and  mad- 
dened hearts  to  burst,  in  the  lands  of  the  heathen. 

While  we  are  on  this  subject  let  us  add  (and  our 
young  readers  will  come  to  know  it  if  they  are  spared 
to  see  many  years),  that  civilization  alone  will  never 
improve  the  heart.  Let  hisiory  speak  and  it  will  tell 
you  that  deeds  of  darkest  hue  have  been  perpetrated  in 
so  called  civilized,  though  pagan  lands.  Civilization  is 
like  the  polish  that  beautifies  inferior  furniture,  which 
water  will  wash  off  if  it  be  but  hot  enough.  Christianity 
resembles  dye,  which  permeates  every  fibre  of  the  fab- 
ric, and  which  nothing  can  eradicate. 

The  success  of  the  trappers  in  procuring  beaver  here 

was  great.     In  all  sorts  of  creeks  and  rivers  they  were 

found.     One  day  they  came  to  one  of  the  curious  rivers 

before  mentioned,  which  burst  suddenly  out  of  ?.  plain, 

flowed  on  for  several  miles,  and  then  disappeared  into 

24* 


282 


DICK,   CRUSOE,  AND    CHARLEY. 


the  earth  as  suddenly  as  it  had  risen.  Even  in  this 
strange  place  'j?aver  were  seen,  so  the  traps  were  set, 
and  a  hundred  and  fifty  were  caught  at  the  first  lift. 

The  manner  in  which  the  party  proceeded  was  as  fol- 
lows :  They  marched  in  a  mass  in  groups  or  in  a  long 
line,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  ground  over  which 
they  travelled.  The  hunters  of  the  party  went  forward 
a  mile  or  two  in  advance,  and  scattered  through  the 
woods.  After  them  came  the  advance-guard,  being  the 
bravest  and  most  stalvvart  of  the  men  mounted  on  their 
best  steeds,  and  with  rifle  in  hand ;  immediately  behind 
followed  the  women  and  children,  also  mounted,  and 
the  pack-horses  with  the  goods  and  camp  equipage. 
Another  band  of  trappers  formed  the  rear-guard  to  this 
imposing  cavalcade.  There  was  no  strict  regimental 
order  kept,  but  the  people  soon  came  to  adopt  the  ar- 
rangements that  were  most  convenient  for  all  parties, 
and  at  length  fell  naturally  into  their  places  in  the  line 
of  march. 

Joe  Blunt  usually  was  the  foremost  and  always  the 
most  successful  of  the  hunters.  He  was  therefore  sel- 
dom seen  on  the  march  except  at  the  hour  of  starting, 
and  at  night  when  he  came  back  leading  his  horse, 
which  always  groaned  under  its  heavy  load  of  meat. 
Henri,  being  a  hearty,  jovial  soul,  and  fond  of  society, 
usually  kept  with  the  main  body.  As  for  Dick,  he  was 
everyvvLere  at  once,  at  least  as  much  so  as  it  is  possible 


TRAPPING   BEAVEE. 


283 


for  human  nature  to  be !  His  horse  never  wearied ;  it 
seemed  to  delight  in  going  at  full  speed ;  no  other  horse 
in  the  troop  could  come  near  Charlie,  and  Dick  indulged 
him  by  appearing  now  at  the  front,  now  at  the  rear, 
anon  in  the  centre,  and  frequently  noiohere  !  —  having 
gone  off  with  Crusoe  like  a  flash  of  lightning  after  a 
buffalo  or  a  deer.  Dick  soon  proved  himself  to  be  the 
best  hunter  of  the  party,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he 
fulfilled  his  promise  to  Crusoe,  and  decorated  his  neck 
with  a  collar  of  grizzly  bear  claws. 

Well,  when  the  trappers  came  to  a  river  where  there 
were  s'^ns  of  beaver,  they  called  a  halt,  and  proceeded 
to  select  a  safe  and  convenient  spot,  near  wood  and 
water  for  the  camp.  Here  the  property  of  the  band 
was  securely  piled  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form  a  breast- 
work or  slight  fortification,  and  here  Walter  Cameron 
established  head-quarters.  This  was  always  the  post  of 
danger,  being  exposed  to  sudden  attack  by  prowling 
savages,  who  often  dogged  the  footsteps  of  the  party  in 
their  journeyings  to  see  what  they  could  steal.  But 
Cameron  was  an  old  hand,  and  they  found  it  difl&cult  to 
escape  his  vigilant  eye. 

From  this  point  all  the  trappers  were  sent  forth  in 
small  parties  every  morning  in  various  directions,  some 
on  foot  and  some  on  horseback,  according  to  the  dis- 
tances they  had  to  go ;  but  they  never  went  further 
than  twenty  miles,  as  they  had  to  return  to  camp  every 
evening. 


284 


TRAPPING  BEAVER. 


Each  trapper  had  ten  steel-traps  allowed  him.  These 
he  set  every  night,  and  visited  every  morning,  sometimes 
oftener,  when  practicable,  selectit;^  a  spot  in  the  stream 
where  many  trees  had  been  cut  down  by  beavers  for  the 
purpose  of  damming  up  the  water.  In  some  places  as 
many  as  fifty  tree  stumps  were  seen  in  one  spot,  within 
the  compass  of  half  an  acre,  all  cut  through  at  about 
eighteen  inches  from  the  root.  We  may  remark,  in 
passing,  that  the  beaver  is  very  much  like  a  gigantic 
water-rat,  with  this  marked  difference,  that  its  tail  is 
veiy  broad  and  flat  like  a  paddle.  The  said  tail  is  a 
greatly  esteemed  article  of  food,  as,  indeed,  is  the  whole 
body  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year.  The  beaver's  fore- 
legs are  very  small  and  short,  and  it  uses  its  paws  as 
hands  to  convey  food  to  its  mouth,  sitting  the  while  in 
an  erect  position  on  its  hind-legs  and  tail.  Its  fur  is  a 
dense  coat  of  a  grayish-colored  down,  concealed  by  long 
coarse  hair,  which  lies  smooth,  and  is  of  a  bright  chest- 
nut color.  Its  teeth  and  jaws  are  of  enormous  power ; 
•with  them  it  can  cut  through  the  branch  of  a  tree  as 
thick  as  a  walking-stick  at  one  snap ;  and  as  we  have 
said,  it  gnaws  through  thick  trees  themselves. 

As  soon  as  a  tree  falls,  the  beavers  set  to  work  indus- 
triously to  lop  off  the  branches,  which,  as  well  as  the 
smaller  trunks,  they  cut  into  lengths,  according  to  their 
weight  and  thickness.  These  are  then  dragged  by  main 
force  to  the  water  side,  launched,  and  floated  to  their 


. 


HABITS    OP  THE   BEAVER. 


285 


destination.  Beavers  build  their  houses,  or  "lodges," 
under  the  banks  of  rivers  and  lakes,  and  always  select 
those  of  such  depth  of  water  that  there  is  no  danger  of 
their  being  frozen  to  the  bottom ;  when  such  cannot  be 
found,  and  they  are  compelled  to  build  in  small  rivulets 
of  insufficient  depth,  these  clever  little  creatures  dam 
up  the  waters  until  they  are  deep  enough.  The  banks 
thrown  up  by  them  across  rivulets  for  this  purpose 
are  of  great  strength,  and  \vould  do  credit  to  human 
engineers.  Their  "lodges"  are  built  of  sticks,  mud, 
and  stones,  which  form  a  compact  mass;  this  freezes 
solid  in  winter,  and  def.es  the  assaults  of  that  house- 
breaker, the  wolverine,  an  animal  which  is  the  beaver's 
implacable  foe.  From  this  "  lodge,"  which  is  capable 
often  of  holding  four  old  and  six  or  eight  young  ones,  a 
communication  is  maintained  with  the  water  below  the 
ice,  so  that,  should  the  wolverine  succeed  in  breaking 
up  the  lodge,  he  finds  the  family  "  not  at  home,"  they 
having  made  good  their  retreat  by  the  back  door.  When 
man  acts  the  part  of  house-breaker,  however,  he  cun- 
ningly shuts  the  back-door  Jirst,  by  driving  stakes 
through  the  ice,  and  thus  stopping  the  passage.  Then 
he  enters,  and  we  almost  regret  to  say,  finds  the  family 
at  home.  We  regret  it,  because  the  beaver  is  a  gentle, 
peaceable,  affectionate,  hairy  little  creature,  towards 
which  one  feels  an  irresistible  tenderness !  But,  to  re- 
turn from  this  long  digrcasion. 


286 


TRAPPING  BEAVEK. 


Lr  i-. 


Our  trappers  having  selected  tlieir  several  localities, 
set  their  traps  in  the  water,  so  that  when  the  beavers 
roamed  about  at  night,  they  put  their  feet  into  them 
and  were  caught  and  drowned ;  for,  altliough  they  can 
swim  and  dive  admirably,  they  cannot  live  altogether 
under  water. 

Thus  the  different  parties  proceeded,  and  in  the  morn- 
ings the  camp  was  a  busy  scene  indeed,  for  then  the 
whole  were  engaged  in  skinning  the  animals.  The  bea- 
vers ■  thus  taken  were  always  skinned,  stretched,  dried, 
folded  up  with  the  hair  in  the  inside,  laid  by,  and  the 
flesh  used  for  food. 

But  oftentimes  the  trappers  had  to  go  forth  with  the 
gun  in  one  hand  and  their  traps  in  the  other,  while  they 
kept  a  sharp  lock-out  on  the  bushes  to  guard  against 
surprise.  Despite  their  utmost  efforts  a  horse  was  occa- 
sionally stolen  before  their  very  eye?,  and  sometimes 
even  an  unfortunate  trapper  was  murdered,  and  all  his 
traps  carried  off. 

An  event  of  this  kind  occurred  soon  after  the  party 
had  gained  the  western  slope?  of  the  mountains.  Three 
Iroquois  Indians,  who  belonged  to  the  band  of  trap- 
pers, were  sent  to  a  stream  about  ten  miles  off.  Hav- 
ing reached  their  destination,  they  all  entered  the  water 
to  set  their  traps,  foolishly  neglecting  the  usual  precau- 
tion of  one  remaining  on  the  bank  to  protect  the  others. 
Tlioy  had  scarcely  commenced  operations,  when  three 


AN    EXPEDITION. 


287 


arrows  were  discharged  into  their  backs,  and  a  party  of 
Snake  Indians  rushed  upon  and  slew  them,  carrying 
away  their  traps,  and  horses,  and  scalps.  This  was  not 
known  for  several  days,  when,  becoming  anxious  about 
their  prolonged  absence,  Cameron  sent  out  a  party  which 
found  their  mangled  bodies  affording  a  loathsome  ban- 
quet to  the  wolves  and  vultures. 

After  this  sad  event  the  trappers  wei'e  more  careful 
to  go  in  larger  parties,  and  keep  watch. 

As  long  as  beaver  were  taken  in  abundance  the  camp 
remained  stationary,  but  whenever  the  beaver  began  to 
grow  scarce,  the  camp  was  raised,  and  the  party  moved 
on  to  another  valley. 

One  day  Dick  Varley  came  galloping  into  camp  with 
the  news  that  there  were  several  bears  in  a  valley  not 
far  distant,  whic'^  ■  e  was  anxious  not  to  disturb  until  a 
number  of  the  trappers  were  collected  together  to  go  out 
and  surround  them. 

On  receiving  the  information  Walter  Cameron  shook 
his  head. 

"  We  have  other  things  to  do,  young  man,"  said 
he,  "than  go  a-hunting  after  bears.  I'm  just  about 
making  up  my  mind  to  send  off  a  party  to  search  out 
the  valley  on  the  other  side  of  the  Blue  Mountains 
yonder,  and  bring  back  word  if  there  are  beaver  there, 
for  if  not,  I  mean  to  strike  away  direct  south.  Now, 
if  you've  a  mind  to  go  with  them,  you're  welcome. 


i 


■     1 


f 


288 


EXPEDITION   TO   THE   BLUE   HILLS. 


I'll  warrant  you'll  find  enough  in  the  way  of  bear- 
hunting  to  satisfy  you ;  perhaps  a  little  Indian  hunting 
to  boot,  for  if  the  Banatees  get  hold  of  your  horses, 
you'll  have  a  long  hunt  before  you  find  them  again. 
Win  you  go  ?  " 

"Ay,  right  gladly,"  replied  Dick.  "When  do  we 
start?" 

"  This  afternoon." 

Dick  went  off  at  once  to  his  own  part  of  the  camp 
to  replenish  his  powder-horn  and  bullet  pouch,  and  wipe 
out  his  rifle. 

.That  evening  the  party,  under  command  of  a  Cana- 
dian named  Pierre,  set  out  for  the  Blue  Hills.  They 
numbered  twenty  men,  and  expected  to  be  absent  three 
days,  for  they  merely  went  to  reconnoitre,  not  to  trap. 
Neither  Joe  nor  Henri  were  of  this  party,  both  having 
been  out  hunting  when  it  was  organized.  But  Crusoe 
and  Charlie  were,  of  course ! 

Pierre,  although  a  brave  and  trusty  man,  was  of  a 
sour,  angry  disposition,  and  not  a  favorite  with  Dick, 
but  the  latter  resolved  to  enjoy  himself  and  disregard 
his  sulky  comrade.  Being  so  well  mounted,  he  not  un- 
frequently  shot  far  ahead  of  his  companions,  despite 
their  warnings  that  he  ran  great  risk  by  so  doing. 
On  one  of  these  occasions  he  and  Crusoe  witnessed 
a  very  singular  fight  which  is  worthy  of  record. 

Dick  had  felt  a  little  wilder  in  spirit  that  morning 


A    STRANGE   FIGHT. 


289 


of  bear- 
hunting 
P  horses, 
n  again. 

i  do  we 


he  camp 
nd  wipe 

a  Cana- 

They 

It  three 

to  trap. 

having 

Crusoe 

as  of  a 
1  Dick, 
sregard 
tiot  un- 
despite 
doing, 
tnessed 

lorning 


than  usual,  and  on  coming  to  a  pretty  open  plain  he 
gave  the  rein  to  Charlie,  and  with  an  "  Adieu  mes  come" 
rndes"  he  was  out  of  sight  in  a  few  minutes.  He  rode 
on  several  miles  in  advance  without  checking  speed, 
and  then  came  to  a  wood  where  rapid  motion  was  incon- 
venient, so  he  pulled  up,  and,  dismounting,  tied  Charlie 
to  a  tree,  while  he  sauntered  on  a  short  way  on  foot. 

On  coming  to  the  edge  of  a  small  plain  he  observed 
two  large  birds  engaged  in  mortal  conflict.  Crusoe  ob- 
served them  too,  and  soon  would  have  put  an  end  to 
<  ';e  fight  had  Dick  not  checked  him.  Creeping  as  close 
to  the  belligerents  as  possible,  he  found  that  one  was 
a  wild  turkey-cock,  tlie  other  a  wliiteheaded  eagle  I 
These  two  stood  with  their  heads  down  and  all  their 
featliers  bristling  for  a  moment,  then  they  dashed  at 
each  other,  and  struck  fiercely  with  their  spurs  as  our 
domestic  cocks  do,  but  neither  fell,  and  the  fight  was 
continued  for  about  five  minutes  without  apparent  advan- 
tage on  either  side. 

Dick  now  observed  that,  from  the  uncertainty  of  its 
motions,  the  turkey-cock  was  blind,  a  discovery  which 
caused  a  throb  of  compunction  to  enter  his  breast  for 
standing  and  looking  on,  so  he  ran  forward.  The  eagle 
saw  him  instantly,  and  tried  to  fly  away,  but  was  unable 
from  exhaustion. 

"  At  him,  Crusoe,"  cried  Dick,  whose  sympathies  all 

lay  with  the  other  bird. 

25 


290 


AN    ENEMY   IN    AMBUSH. 


Crusoe  went  forward  at  a  bound,  and  waj  met  by  a 
peck  between  the  eyes  that  would  have  turned  most 
dogs,  but  Crusoe  only  winked,  and  the  next  monaent  the 
eagle's  career  was  ended. 

Dick  found  that  the  turkey-cock  was  quite  blind,  the 
eagle  having  thrust  out  both  its  eyes,  so,  ir  mercy,  he 
put  an  end  to  its  sufferings. 

The  fight  had  evidently  been  a  long  and  severe  one, 
for  the  grass  all  round  the  spot,  for  about  twenty  yards, 
was  beaten  to  the  ground,  and  covered  with  the  blood 
and  feathers  of  the  fierce  combatants. 

Meditating  on  the  fight  which  he  had  just  witnessed, 
Dick  returned  towards  the  spot  where  he  had  left  Char- 
lie, when  he  suddenly  missed  Crusoe  from  his  4de. 

"  Hallo,  Crusoe  !  here,  pup,  where  are  you  ?  "  he 
cried. 

The  only  answer  to  this  was  a  sharp  whizzing  sound, 
and  an  arrow,  passing  close  to  his  ear,  quivered  in  a 
tree  beyond.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  Crusoe's 
angry  roar  was  followed  by  a  shriek  from  some  one  in 
fear  or  agony.  Cocking  his  rifle,  the  young  hunter 
sprang  through  the  bushes  towards  his  horse,  and  was 
just  in  time  to  save  a  Banatee  Indian  from  being 
strangled  by  the  dog.  It  had  evidently  scented  out  this 
fellow,  and  pinned  him  just  as  he  was  in  the  act  of 
springing  on  the  back  of  Charlie,  for  the  halter  was  cut, 
and  the  savage  lay  on  the  ground  close  beside  him. 


dick's  prisoner. 


291 


net  by  a 
led  most 
ment  the 

lind,  the 
lercy,  he 

ere  one, 
y  yards, 
he  blood 

itnessed, 
a  Char- 
de. 
1?"   he 

;  sound, 
ed  in  a 
>usoe*8 
one  in 
hunter 
md  was 
I  being 
>ut  this 
act  of 
'as  cut, 
n. 


Dick  called  off  the  dog,  and  motioned  to  the  Indian  to 
rise,  which  he  did  so  nimbly  that  it  was  quite  evident 
he  had  sustained  no  injury  beyond  the  Jaceration  of  his 
neck  by  Crusoe's  teeth,  and  the  surprise. 

He  was  a  tall  strong  Indian,  for  the  tribe  to  which  he 
belonged,  so  Dick  proceeded  to  secure  him  at  once. 
Pointing  to  his  rifle  and  to  the  Indian's  breast,  to  show 
what  he  might  expect  if  he  attempted  to  escape,  Dick 
ordered  Crusoe  to  keep  hira  steady  in  that  position. 

The  dog  planted  himself  in  front  of  the  savage,  who 
began  to  tremble  for  his  scalp,  and  gazed  up  in  his  face 
with  a  look  which,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  was  the  re- 
verse of  amiable,  while  Dick  went  towards  his  horse 
for  the  purpose  of  procuring  a  piece  of  cord  to  tie  hira 
with.  The  Indian  naturally  turned  his  head  to  see 
what  was  going  to  be  done,  but  a  peculiar  gurgle  in 
Crusoe's  throat  made  him  turn  it  round  again  very 
smartly,  and  he  did  not  venture,  thereafter,  to  move  a 
muscle. 

In  a  few  seconds  Dick  returned  with  a  piece  of  leather 
and  tied  his  hands  behind  his  back.  While  this  was 
being  done  the  Indian  glanced  several  times  at  his  bow, 
which  lay  a  few  feet  away,  where  it  had  fallen  when 
the  dog  caught  him,  but  Crusoe  seemed  to  understand 
him,  for  he  favored  him  with  such  an  additional  display 
of  teeth,  and  such  a  low  —  apparently  distant,  almost. 


L 


292 


DICK  S   PBISONER. 


til  «v 


we  might  say,  subterranean  —  rumble,  that  he  resigned 
himself  to  his  fate. 

His  hands  secured,  a  long  line  was  attached  to  his 
neck  with  a  running  noose,  so  that  if  he  ventured  to 
run  away  ihe  attempt  would  effect  its  own  cure  by  pro- 
ducing strangulation.  The  other  end  of  this  line  was 
given  to  Crusoe,  who  at  the  word  of  command  marched 
him  off,  while  Dick  mounted  Charlie  and  brought  up 
the  rear. 

Great  was  the  laughter  and  merriment  when  this 
apparition  met  the  eyes  of  the  trappers ;  but  when 
they  heard  that  he  had  attempted  to  shoot  Dick  their 
ire  was  raised,  and  a  court-martial  was  held  on  the 
spot. 

"  Hang  the  reptile ! "  cried  one. 

"  Burn  him ! "  shouted  another. 

"  No,  no,"  said  a  third ;  "  don't  imitate  them  villains ; 
don't  be  cruel.     Let's  shoot  him." 

"  Shoot  'im,"  cried  Pierre  ;  "  Oui,  dat  is  de  ting ;  it 
too  goot  pour  lui,  mais,  it  shall  be  dooed." 

"  Don't  ye  think,  lads,  it  would  be  better  to  let  the 
poor  wretch  off?"  said  Dick  Varley;  "he'd  p'raps  give 
a  good  account  o'  us  to  his  people." 

There  was  a  universal  shout  of  contempt  at  this  mild 
proposal.  Unfortunately,  few  of  the  men  sent  on  this 
exploring  expedition  were  imbued  with  the  peace-making 


THE   PRISONER    LET    OFF. 


293 


spirit  of  their  chief;  and  most  of  them  seemed  glad  to 
have  a  chance  of  venting  their  hatred  of  the  poor  In- 
dians on  this  unhappy  wretch,  who,  although  calm,  looked 
sharply  from  one  speaker  to  another,  to  gather  hope,  if 
possible,  from  the  ton  >s  of  their  voices. 

Dick  was  resolved  at  the  risk  of  a  quarrel  with 
Pierre  to  save  the  poor  man's  life,  and  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  insist  on  having  him  conducted  to  the  camp  to 
be  tried  by  Cameron,  when  one  of  the  men  suggested  that 
they  should  take  the  savage  to  the  top  of  a  hill  about 
three  miles  further  on,  and  there  hang  him  up  on  a  tree 
as  a  warning  to  all  his  tribe. 

"  Agreed,  agreed,"  cried  the  men ;  "  come  on." 

Dick,  too,  seemed  to  agree  to  this  proposal,  and  has- 
tily ordered  Crusoe  to  run  on  ahead  with  the  savage, 
an  order  which  the  dog  obeyed  so  vigorously  that  before 
the  men  had  done  laughing  at  him,  he  was  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  ahead  of  them. 

"  Take  care  that  he  don't  get  off! "  cried  Dick,  spring- 
ing on  Charlie  and  stretching  out  at  a  gallop. 

In  a  moment  he  was  beside  the  Indian.     Scraping     . 
together  the  little  of  the  Indian  language  he  knew,  he 
stooped  down,  and,  cutting  the  thongs  that  bound  him, 
said,  — 

"  Go,  white  men  love  the  Indians." 

The  man  cast  on  his  deliverer  one  glance  of  surprise, 

25* 


IH 


SBSfi 


294 


PIERUE   INSOLENT. 


and  the  next  moment  bounded  aside  into  the  bushes  and 


was  gone. 


A  loud  shout  from  the  party  behind  showed  that  this 
act  had  been  observed,  and  Crusoe  stood  with  the  end 
of  the  line  in  his  mouth,  and  an  expression  on  his  fuce 
that  said,  "  You're  absolutely  incomprehensible,  Dick  I 
It's  all  right,  I  know  /  but  to  my  feeble  capacity  it  seems 


wrong. 


"  Fat  for  you  do  dat  ?  "  shouted  Pierre  in  a  rage,  as 
he  came  up  with  a  menacing  look. 

Dick  confronted  him.  "  The  prisoner  was  mine.  I 
had  a  right  to  do  with  him  as  it  liked  me." 

"  True,  true,"  cried  several  of  the  men  who  had  begun 
to  repent  of  their  resolution,  and  were  glad  the  savage 
was  off.    "  The  lad's  right.     Get  along,  Pierre." 

"  You  had  no  right,  you  vas  wrong.  Oui,  et  I  have 
goot  vill  to  give  you  one  knock  on  de  nose." 

Dick  looked  Pierre  in  the  face,  as  he  said  this,  in  a 
manner  that  cowed  him. 

"  It  is  time,"  he  said  quietly,  pointing  to  the  sun,  "  to 
go  on.  Your  bourgeois  expects  that  time  won't  be 
wasted." 

Pierre  muttered  something  in  an  angry  tone,  and, 
wheeling  round  his  horse,  dashed  forward  at  full  gallop, 
followed  by  the  rest  of  the  men. 

The  trappers  encamped  that  night  on  the  edge  of  a 


THIEVES   IN    CAMP. 


295 


wide  grassy  plain,  which  offered  such  tempting  food  for 
the  horses  that  Pierre  resolved  to  forego  his  usual  cau- 
tious plan  of  picketing  them  close  to  the  camp,  and  set 
them  loose  on  the  plain,  merely  hobbling  them  to  pre- 
vent their  straying  far, 

Dick  remonstrated,  but  in  vain.  An  insolent  answer 
was  all  he  got  for  his  pains.  He  determined,  however, 
to  keep  Charlie  close  beside  him  all  night,  and  also 
made  up  his  mind  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out  on  the  other 
horses. 

At  supper  he  again  remonstrated. 

"  No  fraid,"  said  Pierre,  whose  pipe  was  beginning  to 
improve  his  temper.  "  The  red  reptiles  no  dare  to  come 
in  open  plain  when  de  moon  so  clear." 

"  Dun  know  that,"  said  a  taciturn  trapper,  who  sel- 
dom ventured  a  remark  of  any  kind ;  "  them  varmints  ' 
*ud  steal  the  two  eyes  out  o'  you'  head  when  they  set 
their  hearts  on't." 

"  Dat  ar*  umposs'ble,  for  de  have  no  hearts,"  said  a 
half  breed ;  "  dey  have  von  hole  vere  de  heart  vas  be." 

This  was  received  with  a  shout  of  laughter,  in  the 
midst  of  which  an  appalling  yell  was  heard,  and,  as  if 
by  magic,  four  Indians  were  seen  on  the  backs  of  four 
of  the  best  horses,  yelling  like  fiends,  and  driving  all  the 
other  horses  furiously  before  them  over  the  plain ! 

How  they  got  there  was  a  complete  mystery,  but  the 
men  did  not  wait  to  consider  that  point.     Catching  up 


296 


BANATTEE   ROBBERS. 


their  guns  they  sprang  after  them  with  the  fury  of  mad- 
men, and  were  quickly  scattered  far  and  wide.  Dick 
ordered  Crusoe  to  follow  and  help  the  men,  and  turned 
to  spring  on  the  back  of  Charlie,  but  at  that  moment 
he  observed  an  Indian's  head  and  shoulders  rise  above 
the  gra&s,  not  fifty  yards  jn  advance  from  him,  so  with- 
out hesitation  he  darted  forward,  intending  to  pounce 
upon  him. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  Dick  Varley  had  he  at 
that  time  possessed  a  little  more  experience  of  the  wiles 
and  stratagems  of  the  Banattees.  The  Snake  nation  is 
sub-uivided  into  several  tribes,  of  which  those  inhabiting 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  called  the  Banattees,  are  the  most 
pei  tidious.  Indeed,  they  are  confessedly  the  banditti  of 
the  hills,  and  respect  neither  friend  nor  foe,  but  rob  all 
who  come  in  their  way. 

Dick  reached  the  spot  where  the  Indian  had  disap- 
peared in  less  than  a  minute,  but  no  savage  was  to  be 
seen !  Thinking  he  had  crept  ahead  he  ran  on  a  few 
yards  further,  and  diirted  about  hiiher  and  thither, 
while  his  eyes  glanced  from  side  to  side.  Suddenly  a 
shout  in  the  camp  attracted  his  attention,  and  looking 
back  he  beheld  the  savage  on  Charlie's  back  turning  to 
fly.  Next  moment  he  was  off  and  away  far  beyond  the 
hope  of  recovery.  Dick  had  left  his  rifle  in  the  camp, 
otherwise  the  savage  would  have  gone  but  a  short  way 
—  as  it  was,  Dick  returned,  and  sitting  down  on  a  mound 


L. 


A   SAD    CONDITION. 


297 


of  grass,  stared  straight  befoie  him  with  a  feehng  akin 
to  despair.  Even  Crusoe  could  not  have  helped  him 
had  he  been  there,  for  nothing  on  four  legs,  or  on  two, 
could  keep  pace  with  Charlie. 

The  Banattee  achieved  this  feat  by  adopting  a  strata- 
gem which  invariably  deceives  those  who  are  igi.orant 
of  their  habits  and  tactics.  When  suddenly  pursued 
the  Banattee  sinks  into  the  grass,  and,  serpent-like, 
creeps  along  with  wonderful  rapidity,  not  from  but 
towards  his  enemy,  taking  care,  however,  to  avoid  him, 
so  that  when  the  pursuer  reaches  the  spot  where  the 
pursued  is  supposed  to  be  hiding,  he  hears  him  shout  a 
yell  of  defiance  far  away  in  the  rear. 

It  was  thus  that  the  Banattee  eluded  Dick  and  gained 
the  camp  almost  as  soon  as  the  other  reached  the  spot 
where  he  had  disappeared. 

One  by  one  the  trappers  came  back  weary,  raging, 
and  despairing.  In  a  short  time  they  all  assembled,  and 
soon  began  to  reproach  each  other.  Ere  long  one  or 
two  had  a  fight,  which  resulted  in  several  bloody  noses 
and  black  eyes,  thus  adding  to  the  misery  which,  one 
would  think,  had  been  bad  enough  without  such  addi- 
tions. At  last  they  finished  their  suppers  and  their 
pipes,  and  then  lay  down  to  sleep  under  the  trees  till 
morning,  when  they  arose  in  a  particularly  silent  and 
sulky  mood,  rolled  up  their  blankets,  strapped  their 
things  on  their  shoulders,  and  began  to  trudge  slowly 
back  to  the  camp  on  foot. 


298 


WOLVES   ATTACK   THE   HOtlSES. 


.£ 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Wolves  attack  the  Horses,  and  Cameron  circumvents  the  Wolves.  — 
A  Bear-hunt,  in  which  Henri  shines  conspicuous.  —  Joe  and  the 
"  Natter-list."  — An  Alarm.  —  A  Surprise  and  a  Capture. 

We  must  now  return  to  the  camp  where  "Walter 
Cameron  still  guarded  the  goods,  and  the  men  pursued 
their  trapping  avocations. 

Here  seven  of  the  horses  had  been  killed  in  one  night 
by  wolves  while  grazing  in  a  plain  close  to  the  camp, 
and  on  the  night  following  a  horse  that  had  strayed  was 
also  torn  to  pieces  and  devoured.  The  prompt  and  dar- 
ing manner  in  which  this  had  been  done  convinced  the 
trader  that  white  wolves  had  unfortunately  scented  them 
out,  and  he  set  several  traps  in  the  hope  of  capturing 
them. 

White  wolves  are  quite  distinct  from  the  ordinary 
wolves  that  prowl  through  woods  and  plains  in  large 
packs.  They  are  much  larger,  weighing  sometimes 
as  much  as  a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  ;  but  they 
arc  comparatively  scarce,  and  move  about  alone,  or  in 
small  bands  of  three  or  four.  Their  strength  is  enor- 
mou;:,  and  they  are  so  fierce  that  they  do  not  hesitate, 


WHITE    WOLVES    ATTACKING   HORSES. 


299 


►upon  occasions,  to  attack  man  himself.  Their  method 
of  killing  horses  is  very  deliberate.  Two  wolves  gen- 
erally undertake  the  cold  blooded  murder.  They  ap- 
proach their  victim  with  the  most  innocent  looking  and 
frolicsome  gambols,  lying  down  and  rolling  about,  and 
frisking  pleasantly  until  the  horse  becomes  a  little 
accustomed  to  them.  Then  one  approaches  right  in 
front,  the  other  in  rear,  still  frisking  playfully,  until 
they  think  themselves  near  enough,  when  they  make  a 
simultaneous  rush.  The  wolf  which  approaches  in  rear 
is  the  true  assailant ;  the  rush  of  the  other  is  a  mere 
feint;  then  both  fasten  on  the  poor  horse's  haunches, 
and  never  let  go  till  the  sinews  are  cut  and  he  is  rolling 
on  his  side. 

The  horse  makes  comparatively  little  struggle  in  this 
deadly  assault.  He  seems  paralyzed  and  soon  falls  to 
rise  no  more. 

Cameron  set  his  traps  towards  evening  in  a  circle 
with  a  bait  in  the  centre  and  then  retired  to  rest.  Next 
morning  he  called  Joe  Blunt  and  the  two  went  off  to- 
gether. 

"  It  is  strange  that  these  rascally  white  wolves  should 
be  so  bold  when  the  smaller  kinds  are  so  cowardly," 
remarked  Cameron,  as  they  walked  along. 

"So  'tis,"  replied  Joe,  "but  I've  seed  them  other 
chaps  bold  enough  too  in  the  prairie  when  they  were  in 
large  packs  and  starvin'." 


Hi 


300 


A  WHITE   WOLF   CAUGHT. 


"  I  believe  (he  small  wolves  follow  the  big  fellows 
and  help  them  to  eat  what  they  kill,  though  they  gener- 
ally sit  round  and  look  on  at  the  killing." 

"  Hist ! "  exclaimed  Joe,  cocking  his  gun,  "  there  he 
is,  an'  no  mistake." 

There  he  was,  undoubtedly.  A  wolf  of  the  largest 
size  with  one  of  his  feet  in  the  trap.  He  was  a  terrible 
looking  object,  foi,  besides  his  immense  size  and  natur- 
ally ferocious  aspect,  his  white  hair  bristled  on  end  and 
was  all  covered  with  streaks  and  spots  of  blood  from 
his  bloody  jaws.  In  his  efforts  to  escape  he  had  bitten 
the  trap  until  he  had  broken  his  teeth  and  lacerated  his 
gums,  so  that  his  appearance  was  hideous  in  the  ex- 
treme. And  when  the  two  men  came  up  he  struggled 
with  all  his  might  to  fly  at  them. 

Cameron  and  Joe  stood  looking  at  him  in  a  sort  of 
wondering  admiration. 

"  We'd  better  put  a  ball  in  him,"  suggested  Joe, 
after  a  time.  "  Mayhap  the  chain  won't  stand  sich  tugs 
long." 

"  True,  Joe ;  if  it  breaks  we  might  get  an  ugly  nip 
before  we  killed  him." 

So  saying  Cameron  fired  into  the  wolf's  head  and 
killed  it.  It  was  found,  on  examination,  that  four  wolves 
had  been  in  the  traps,  but  the  rest  had  escaped.  Two 
of  them,  however,  had  gnawed  off  their  paws  and  left 
them  lying  in  the  traps. 


A  BEAR   HUNT. 


801 


After  this  the  big  wolves  did  not  trouble  them  again. 
The  same  afternoon  a  bear  hunt  was  undertaken,  which 
wellnigh  cost  one  of  tlie  Iroquois  his  life.  It  happened 
thus :  — 

While  Cameron  and  Joe  were  away  after  the  white 
wolves,  Henri  came  floundering  into  camp  tossing  his 
arms  like  a  maniac,  and  shouting  that  "  seven  bars  wos 
be  down  in  de  bush  close  bye ! "  It  chanced  that  this 
was  an  idle  day  with  most  of  the  men,  so  they  all  leaped 
on  their  horses,  and  taking  guns  and  knives  sallied  forth 
to  give  battle  to  the  bears. 

Arrived  at  the  scene  of  action  they  found  the  seven 
bears  busily  engaged  in  digging  up  roots,  so  the  men  sep- 
arated in  order  to  surround  them,  and  then  closed  in. 
The  place  Avas  partly  open  and  partly  covered  with  thick 
bushes  into  which  a  horseman  could  not  penetrate.  The 
moment  the  bears  got  wind  of  what  was  going  forward 
they  made  off  as  fast  as  possible,  and  then  commenced 
a  scene  of  firing,  galloping,  and  yelling,  that  defies  de- 
scription !  Four  out  of  the  seven  were  shot  before  they 
gained  the  bushes ;  the  other  three  were  wounded,  but 
made  good  their  retreat.  As  their  places  of  shelter, 
however,  were  like  islands  in  the  plain,  they  had  no 
chance  of  escaping. 

The  horsemen  now  dismounted  and  dashed  recklessly 

into  the  bushes,  where  they  soon  discovered  and  killed 

two  of  the  bears;  the  third  was  not  found  for  some 

26 


f 


^■:i 


302 


NARROTT   ESCAPES. 


time.  At  last  an  Iroquois  came  upon  it  so  suddenly  that 
he  had  not  time  to  point  his  gun  before  the  bear  sprang 
upon  him  and  struck  him  to  the  earth,  where  it  held  him 
down. 

Instantly  the  place  was  surrounded  by  eager  men, 
but  the  bushes  were  so  thick  and  the  fallen  trees  among 
which  the  bear  stood  were  so  numerous,  that  they  could 
not  use  their  guns  without  running  the  risk  of  shooting 
their  companion.  Most  of  them  drew  their  knives 
and  seemed  about  to  rush  on  the  bear  with  these,  but 
the  monster's  aspect,  as  it  glared  round,  was  so  ter- 
rible that  they  held  back  for  a  moment  in  hesitation. 

At  this  moment  Henri,  who  had  been  at  some  dis- 
tance engaged  in  the  killing  of  one  of  the  other  bears, 
came  rushing  forward  after  his  own  peculiar  manner. 

"  Ah  1  fat  is  eet  —  hay  ?  de  bar  no  go  under  yit  ?  " 

Just  then  his  eye  fell  on  the  wounded  Iroquois  with 
the  bear  above  him,  and  he  uttered  a  yell  so  intense  in 
tone  that  the  bear  himself  seemed  to  feel  that  something 
decisive  was  about  to  be  done  at  last.  Henri  did  not 
pause,  but  with  a  flying  dash  he  sprang  like  a  spread 
eagle,  arms  and  legs  extended,  right  into  the  bear's 
bosom.  At  the  same  moment  he  sent  his  long  hunting- 
knife  down  into  its  heart. .  But  Bruin  is  proverbially 
hard  to  kill,  and  although  mortally  wounded,  he  had 
strength  enough  to  open  his  jaws  and  close  them  on 
Henri's  neck. 


INDIAN   TENACITY   OF  LIFE. 


803 


There  was  a  cry  of  horror,  and  at  the  same  moment 
a  volley  was  fired  at  the  bear's  head,  for  the  trappers 
felt  that  it  was  better  to  risk  shooting  their  comrades  than 
see  them  killed  before  their  eyes.  Fortunately  the  bul- 
lets took  effect,  and  tumbled  him  over  at  once  without 
doing  damage  to  either  of  the  men,  although  several  of 
the  balls  just  grazed  Henri's  temple  and  carried  off  his 
cap. 

Although  uninjured  by  the  shot,  the  poor  Iroquois 
had  not  escaped  scatheless  from  the  paw  of  the  bear. 
His  scalp  was  torn  almost  off,  and  hung  down  over  his 
eyes,  while  blood  streamed  down  his  face.  He  was 
conveyed  by  his  comrades  to  the  camp,  where  he  lay 
two  days  in  a  state  of  insensibility,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  he  revived  and  recovered  daily.  Afterwards  when 
the  camp  moved  he  had  to  be  carried,  but  in  the  course 
of  two  months  he  was  as  well  as  ever,  and  quite  as  fond 
of  bear-hunting ! 

Among  other  trophies  of  this  hunt  there  were  two 
deer,  and  a  buffalo,  which  last  had  probably  strayed 
from  the  herd.  Four  or  five  Iroquois  were  round  this 
animal  whetting  their  knives  for  the  purpose  of  cutting 
it  up  when  Henri  passed,  so  he  turned  aside  to  watch 
them  perform  the  operation,  quite  regardless  of  the  fact 
that  his  neck  and  face  were  covered  with  blood  which 
flowed  from  one  or  two  small  punctures  made  by  the 
bear. 


Is 


304 


BUFFALO    CUTTING-UP. 


I 
-I 


The  Indians  began  by  taking  off  the  skin,  which  cer- 
tainly did  not  occupy  thera  more  than  five  minutes. 
Then  they  cut  up  the  meat  and  made  a  pack  of  it,  and 
cut  out  the  tongue,  which  is  somewhat  troublesome,  as 
that  member  requires  to  be  cut  out  from  under  the  jaw 
of  the  animal,  and  not  through  the  natural  opening  of 
the  mouth.  One  of  the  fore  legs  was  cut  off  at  the  knee 
joint,  and  this  was  used  as  a  hammer  with  which  to 
break  the  skull  for  the  purpose  of  taking  out  the  brains, 
these  being  used  in  the  process  of  dressing  and  soften- 
ing the  animal's  skin.  An  axe  would  have  been  of  ad- 
vantage to  break  the  skull,  but  in  the  hurry  of  rushing 
to  the  attack  the  Indians  had  forgotten  their  axes,  so 
they  adopted  the  common  fashion  of  using  the  buffalo's 
hoof  as  a  hammer,  the  shank  being  the  handle.  .  The 
whole  operation  of  flaying,  cutting  up,  and  packing  the 
meat,  did  not  occupy  more  than  twenty  minutes.  Before 
leaving  the  ground  these  expert  butchers  treated  them- 
selves to  a  little  of  the  marrow  and  warm  liver  in  a  raw 
state ! 

Cameron  and  Joe  walked  up  to  the  group  while  they 
were  indulging  in  this  little  feast. 

"  Well,  I've  often  seen  that  eaten,  but  I  never  could 
do  it  myself,"  remarked  the  former. 

"  No ! "  cried  Joe  in  surprise ;  "  now  that's  oncommon 
cur'us.  I've  lived  on  raw  liver  an'  mari'ow  bones  for 
two  01  three  days  at  a  time,  when  we  wos  chased  by  the 


JOE    AND    THE    "NATTER-LIST." 


305 


Camanche  Injuns  and  didn't  dare  to  make  a  fire,  an'  it's 
ra'al  good  it  is.     Won't  ye  try  it  now  ?  " 

Cameron  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  thankee ;  I'll  not  refuse  when  I  can't  help  it, 
but  until  then  I'll  remain  in  happy  ignorance  of  how 
good  it  is." 

"  Well,  it  is  strange  how  some  folk  can't  abide  any 
thing  in  the  meat  way  they  hant  bin  used  to.  D'ye 
know  I've  actually  knowd  men  from  the  cities  as  wouldn't 
eat  a  bit  o'  horseflesh  for  love  or  money.  Would  ye  be- 
lieve it?" 

"  I  can  well  believe  that,  Joe,  for  I  have  met  with 
such  persons  myself;  in  fact,  they  are  rather  numerous. 
What  are  you  chuckling  at,  Joe  ?  " 

«  Chucklin'?  if  ye  mean  be  that  Marfin  in  to  myself 
it's  because  I'm  thinkin'  o'  a  chap  as  once  comed  out  to 
the  prairies." 

"  Let  us  walk  back  to  the  camp,  Joe,  and  you  can  tell 
me  about  him  as  we  go  along." 

« I  think,"  continued  Joe,  "  he  comed  from  Washing- 
ton, but  I  never  could  make  out  right  whether  he  wos 
a  government  man  or  not.  Anyhow,  he  was  a  pheelos- 
opher  —  a  natter-list  I  think  he  call  his-self — " 

"  A  naturalist,"  suggested  Cameron. 

"  Ay,  that  wos  more  like  it.  Well,  he  wos  about  six 
feet  two  in  his  moccasins,  an'  is  thin  as  a  ram-rod,  an* 
as  Mind  as  a  bat  —  leastways  he  had  weak  eyes  an'  wore 

•J<i  * 


806 


JOE    AND   THE   "NATTER-LIST." 


, 


1,1 


i 


green  spectacles.  He  had  on  a  gray  shootin'  coat  and 
trousers  and  vest  and  cap,  with  rid  whiskers  an'  a  long 
nose  as  rid  at  the  point  as  the  whiskers  wos. 

"  Well,  this  gentleman  engaged  me  an'  another  hun- 
ter to  go  a  trip  with  him  into  the  prairies,  so  off  we  sot 
one  fine  day  on  three  hosses  with  our  blankets  at  our 
backs  —  we  wos  to  depend  on  the  rifle  for  victuals.  At 
first  I  thought  the  Natter-list  one  o'  the  cruellest  beggars 
as  iver  went  on  two  long  legs,  for  he  used  to  go  about 
everywhere  pokin'  pins  through  all  the  beetles,  and 
flies,  I! '  creepin'  things  he  could  sot  eyes  on,  an*  stuck 
them  in  a  box ;  but  he  told  me  he  corned  here  a-purpose 
to  git  as  many  o'  them  as  he  could  ;  so  says  I, '  If  that's 
it,  I'll  fill  yer  box  in  no  time.* 

"  ♦  Will  ye,'  says  he,  quite  pleased  like. 

"  *  I  will,'  says  I,  an'  galloped  oflf  to  a  place  as  was 
filled  wi'  all  sorts  o'  crawlin'  things.  So  I  sets  to  work, 
and  whenever  I  seed  a  thing  crawlin'  I  sot  my  fut  on  it 
and  crushed  it,  and  soon  filled  my  breast  pocket.  I 
coched  a  lot  o'  butterflies  too,  an'  stuffed  them  into  my 
shot-pouch,  and  went  back  in  an  hour  or  two  an'  showed 
him  the  lot.  He  put  on  his  green  spectacles  and  looked 
at  them  as  if  he'd  seen  a  rattlesnake. 

" '  My  good  man,'  says  he,  *  you've  crushed  them  all 
to  pieces ! ' 

" '  They'll  taste  as  good  for  all  that,'  says  I,  for  some- 
how I'd  taken't  in  me  head  that  he'd  heard  o'  the  way 


,  * 


JOE   AND   THE   "  NATTER-LIST." 


807 


the  Injuns  make  soup  o*  the  grasshoppers,  an'  was  want- 
in'  to  try  his  hund  at  a  new  dish ! 

"  He  laughed  wlien  I  said  this,  an'  told  me  he  wos 
collectin*  them  to  take  home  to  be  looked  at.  But 
that's  not  wot  I  wos  goin'  to  tell  ye  about  him,"  con- 
tinued Joe ;  "  I  wos  goin'  to  tell  ye  how  we  made  him 
eat  horse  flesh.  He  carried  a  revolver,  too,  this  natter- 
list  did,  to  load  wi'  shot  as  small  as  dust  a-most,  and 
shoot  little  birds  with.  I've  seed  him  miss  birds  only 
three  feet  away  with  it.  An'  one  day  he  drew  it  all  of 
a  suddent  and  let  fly  at  a  big  bum-bee  that  wos  passin', 
yellin'  out  that  it  wos  the  finest  wot  he  had  iver  seed. 
He  missed  the  bee,  of  coorse,  cause  it  was  a  flyin'  shot, 
he  said,  but  he  sent  the  whole  charge  right  into  Martin's 
back  —  Martin  was  my  comrade's  name.  By  good  luck 
Martin  had  on  a  thick  leather  coat,  so  the  shot  niver  got 
the  length  o'  his  skin. 

"  One  day  I  noticed  that  the  Natter-list  had  stuffed 
small  corks  into  the  muzzles  of  all  the  six  barrels  of  his 
revolver.  I  wondered  what  they  wos  for,  but  he  wos 
al'ays  doin'  sich  queer  things  that  I  soon  forgot  it. 
*May  be,'  thought  I,  jist  before  it  went  out  o'  my  mind, 
—  *  may  be  he  thinks  that'll  stop  the  pistol  from  goin' 
off  by  accident,'  for  ye  must  know  he'd  let  it  off  three 
times  the  first  day  by  accident,  and  wellnigh  blowed 
off  his  leg  the  last  time,  only  the  shot  lodged  in  the 
back  o'  a  big  toad  he'd  jist  stuffed  into  his  breeches 


808 


JOE   AND   THE   "  NATTEn-LI8T.' 


pocket.  "Well,  soon  after  we  shot  a  buffalo  bull,  so 
when  it  fell,  off  he  jumps  from  his  horse  an'  runs  up  to 
it.  So  did  I,  for  I  wasn't  sure  the  beast  was  dead,  an* 
I  had  jist  got  up  when  it  rose  an'  rushed  at  the  Natter- 
list. 

" '  Out  o'  the  way,'  I  yelled,  for  ray  rifle  was  empty ; 
but  he  didn't  move,  so  I  rushed  forward  an'  drew  the 
pistol  out  o'  his  belt  and  let  fly  in  the  bull's  ribs  jist 
as  it  ran  the  poor  man  down.  Martin  came  up  that 
moment  and  put  a  ball  through  its  heart,  and  then  we 
went  to  pick  up  the  Natter-list.  He  came  to  in  a 
little,  an'  the  first  thing  he  said  was,  *  Where's  my  re- 
volver ? '  When  I  gave  it  to  him  he  looked  at  it,  an' 
said  with  a  solemcholy  shake  o'  the  head,  '  There's  a 
whole  barrel  full  lost  1 '  It  turned  out  that  he  had  taken 
to  usin'  the  barrels  for  bottles  to  hold  things  in,  but  he 
forgot  to  draw  the  charges,  so  sure  enough  I  had  fired 
a  charge  o'  bum-bees,  an'  beetles,  an'  small  shot  into 
the  buffalo ! 

"  But  that's  not  what  I  wos  goin'  to  tell  ye  yet.  We 
corned  to  a  part  o'  the  plains  where  we  wos  wellnigh 
starved  for  want  o*  game,  an'  the  Natter-list  got  so  thin 
that  ye  could  a-most  see  through  him,  so  I  offered  to  kill 
my  horse,  an'  cut  it  up  for  meat ;  but  you  niver  saw 
sich  a  face  he  made.  'I'd  rather  die  first,'  says  he, 
*  than  eat  it ; '  so  we  didn't  kill  it.  But  that  very  day, 
Martin  got  a  shot  at  a  wild  horse  and  killed  it.    The 


JOE   AND   THE  "NATTER-LIST." 


809 


Natter-list  was  down  in  the  bod  o'  a  creek  at  il  time 
gropin'  for  creepers,  an'  he  didn't  see  it. 

" '  He'll  niver  eat  it,*  says  Martin. 

"  *  That's  true,'  says  I. 

" '  Let's  tell  him  it's  a  buffalo,*  says  he. 

" '  That  would  be  tellin'  a  lie,'  says  I. 

"  So  we  Btood  lookin*  at  each  other,  not  knowin'  what 
to  do. 

"'I'll  tell  ye  what,'  cries  Martin,  < we'll  cut  it  up,  and 
take  the  meat  into  camp  and  cook  it  without  sai/iri'  a 
word.' 

" '  Done,'  says  I,  '  that's  it ; '  for  ye  must  know  the 
poor  creature  wos  no  judge  o*  meat.  He  couldn't  tell 
one  kind  from  another,  an*  he  niver  axed  questions. 
In  fact  he  niver  a-most  spoke  to  us  all  the  trip.  Well, 
we  cut  up  the  horse  and  carried  the  flesh  and  marrow- 
bones into  camp,  takin'  care  to  leave  the  hoofs  and  skin 
behind,  and  sot  to  work  and  roasted  steaks  and  marrow- 
bones. 

"  When  the  Natter-list  came  back  ye  should  ha'  seen 
the  joyful  face  he  put  on  when  he  smelt  the  grub,  for 
he  was  all  but  starved  out,  poor  critter. 

" '  What  have  we  got  here  ? '  cried  he,  rubbin'  his 
hands  and  sittin'  down. 

" '  Steaks  an'  marrow  bones,'  says  Martin. 

" '  Capital !  *  says  he.     '  I'm  so  hungry.* 


if  '! 


il 


Sil- 


rp  »* 


i 


,    51    «(( 


810 


JOE   AND    THE    "  NATTER-LIST." 


"  So  he  fell  to  work  like  a  wolf.  I  niver  seed  a  man 
pitch  into  any  thing  hke  as  that  Natter-list  did  into  that 
horse-flesh. 

" '  These  are  first-rate  marrow  bones,'  says  he,  squint- 
in'  with  one  eye  down  the  shin  bone  o'  the  hind  leg  to 
see  if  it  was  quite  empty. 

" '  Yes,  sir,  they  is,'  answered  Martin,  as  grave  as  a 
judge. 

"  '  Take  another,  sir,'  says  I. 

"  *  No,  thankee,'  says  he  with  a  sigh,  for  he  didn't  like 
to  leave  off. 

"  Well,  we  lived  for  a  week  on  horseflesh,  an*  first- 
rate  livin'  it  wos ;  then  we  fell  in  v/ith  buffalo,  an  niver 
ran  short  again  till  we  got  to  the  settlements,  when 
he  paid  us  our  money  an'  shook  hands,  sayin'  we'd  had 
a  nice  trip  an'  he  wished  us  well.  Jist  as  we  wos 
partin'  I  said,  says  I,  '  D'ye  know  what  it  was  we  lived 
on  for  a  week  arter  we  was  wellnish  starved  in  the 


prairies 


?» 


"  *  What,'  says  he,  '  when  we  got  yon  capital  marrow- 
bones ? ' 

" '  The  same,'  says  I ;  '  yon  wos  horse  flesh,*  says  T, 
*  an'  I  think  ye'U  surely  niver  say  again  that  it  isn't 
first-rate  livin'.' 

" '  Yer  jokin','  says  he,  turnin'  pale. 

"  *  It's  true,  sir,  as  true  as  yer  stand  in'  therj.' 


^ui^t^mmmm 


imiil 


AN   ALARM. 


811 


"Well,  would  ye  believe  it ;  he  turned —  that  Natter- 
list  did  —  as  sick  as  a  dog  on  the  spot  wot  he  wos 
standin'  on,  an'  didn't  taste  meat  again  for  three  days ! " 

Shortly  after  the  conclusion  of  Joe's  story  they 
reached  the  camp  and  here  they  found  the  women  and 
children  flying  about  in  a  state  of  tenor,  and  the  few 
men  who  had  been  left  in  charge  arming  themselves  in 
the  greatest  haste. 

"  Hallo !  something  wrong  here,"  cried  Cameron, 
hastening  forward  followt  J  by  Joe.  "  What  h?ts  hap- 
pened, eh  ?  " 

"  Injuns  comin',  monsieur,  look  dere,"  answered  a 
trapper,  pointing  down  the  valley. 

"  Arm  and  mount  at  once,  and  come  to  the  front  of 
the  cump,"  cried  Ctimeron  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  silenced 
every  other,  and  turned  confusion  into  order. 

The  cause  of  all  this  outcry  was  a  cloud  of  dust  seen 
far  down  the  valley,  which  was  raised  by  a  band  of 
mounted  Indians  who  approached  the  camp  at  full 
speed.  Their  numbers  could  not  be  made  out,  but  they 
were  a  sufficiently  formidable  band  to  cause  much 
anxiety  to  Cameron,  whose  men,  at  the  time,  were 
scattered  to  the  various  trapping  grounds,  and  only  ten 
chanced  to  be  within  call  of  ihe  camp.  However,  with 
these  ten  he  determined  to  show  a  bold  front  to  the 
savages,  whether  they  came  as  friends  or  foes.  He 
therefore  ordered  the  women  and  children  within  the 


312 


A   SURPRISE   AND   A    CAPTURE. 


citadel  formed  of  the  goods  and  packs  of  furs  piled 
upon  each  other,  which  point  of  retreat  was  to  be  de- 
fended to  the  last  extremity*  Then  galloping  to  the 
front  he  collected  his  men  and  swept  down  the  valley 
at  full  speed.  In  a  few  minutes  they  were  near  enough 
to  observe  that  the  enemy  only  numbered  four  Indians, 
who  were  driving  a  band  of  about  a  hundred  horses 
before  them,  and  so  busy  were  they  in  keeping  the  troop 
together  that  Cameron  and  his  men  were  close  upon 
them  before  they  were  observed. 

It  was  too  late  to  escape.  Joe  Blunt  and  Henri  had 
already  swept  round  and  cut  off  their  retreat.  In  this 
extremity  the  Indians  slipped  from  the  backs  of  their 
steeds  and  darted  into  the  bushes,  where  they  were 
safe  from  pursuit,  at  least  on  horseback,  while  the  trap- 
pers got  behind  the  horses,  and  drove  them  towards  the 
camp. 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  horses  sprang  ahead  of  the 
others  and  made  for  the  mountain,  with  its  mane  and 
tail  flying  wildly  in  the  breeze. 

"  Marrow-bones  and  buttons ! "  shouted  one  of  the 
men,  "  there  goes  Dick  Varley's  horse." 

"  So  it  am!"  cried  Henri,  and  dashed  off  in  pursuit, 
followed  by  Joe  and  two  others. 

"  Why,  these  are  our  own  horses,"  said  Cameron  in 
surprise,  as  they  drove  them  into  a  corner  of  the  hills 
from  which  they  could  not  escape. 


A   CAPTURE. 


313 


This  was  true,  but  it  was  only  half  the  truth,  for 
besides  their  own  horses,  they  had  secured  upwards  of 
seventy  Indian  steeds,  a  most  acceptable  addition  to 
their  stud,  which,  owing  to  casualties  and  wolves,  had 
been  diminishing  too  much  of  late.  The  fact  was,  that 
the  Indians  who  had  captured  the  horses  belonging  to 
Pierre  and  his  party  were  a  small  band  of  robbers  who 
had  travelled,  as  was  afterwards  learned,  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  south,  stealing  horses  from  various 
tribes  as  they  went  along.  As  we  have  seen,  in  an  evil 
hour  they  fell  in  with  Pierre's  party  and  carried  off 
their  steeds,  which  they  drove  to  a  pass  leading  from 
one  valley  to  the  other.  Here  they  united  them  v^ith 
tlie  main  btuid  of  their  ill-gotten  gains,  and  while  the 
greater  number  of  the  robbers  descended  further  into 
the  plains  in  search  of  more  booty,  four  of  them  were 
sent  into  the  mountains  with  the  horses  already  pro- 
cured. These  four,  utterly  ignorant  of  the  presence  of 
white  men  in  the  valley,  drove  their  charge,  as  we  have 
seen,  almost  into  the  camp. 

Cameron  immediately  organized  a  party  to  go  out  in 
search  of  Pierre  and  his  companions,  about  whose  fate 
he  became  intensely  anxious,  and  in  the  course  of  half 
an  hour  as  many  men  as  he  could  spare  with  safety 
were  despatched  in  the  direction  of  the  Blue  Mountains. 


27 


BU 


CHARLIE   BECOMES   OBSTREPEROUS. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

Charlie's  Adventures  with  Savages  and  Bears.  —  Trapping  Life. 

It  is  one  thing  to  chase  a  horse ;  it  is  another  thing 
to  catch  it.  Little  consideration  and  less  sagacity  is  re- 
quired to  convince  us  of  the  truth  of  that  fact. 

The  reader  may  perhaps  venture  to  think  this  rather 
a  trifling  fact.  We  are  not  so  sure  of  that.  In  this 
world  of  fancies,  to  have  any  fact  incontestably  proved 
and  established  is  a  comfort,  and  whatever  is  a  source 
of  comfort  to  mankind  is  worthy  of  notice.  Surely  our 
reader  won't  deny  that !  Perhaps  he  will,  so  we  can 
only  console  ourself  with  the  remark  that  there  are  peo- 
ple in  this  world  who  would  deny  ant/  thing  —  who 
would  deny  that  there  was  a  nose  on  their  face  if  you 
said  there  was ! 

Well,  to  return  to  the  point,  which  was  the  chase  of 
a  horse  in  the  abstract;  from  which  we  will  rapidly 
diverge  to  the  chase  of  Dick  Varley's  horse  in  particular. 
This  noble  charger,  having  been  ridden  by  savages  until 
all  his  old  fire,  and  blood,  and  metal  were  worked  up 
to  a  red  heat,  no  sooner  discovered  that  he  was  pur- 


SHSB&i 


THE    CHASE. 


315 


sued  than  he  gave  a  snort  of  defiance,  which  he  accom- 
panied with  a  frantic  shake  of  his  mane,  and  a  fling 
of  contempt  in  addition  to  a  magnificent  wave  of  his 
tail ;  then  he  thundered  up  the  valley  at  a  pace  which 
would  speedily  have  left  Joe  Blunt  and  Henri  out  of 
sight  behind  if — ay !  that's  the  word,  if!  what  a  word 
that  if  is !  what  a  world  of  if 's  we  live  in !  There 
never  was  any  thing  that  wouldn't  have  been  some- 
thing else  t/" something  hadn't  intervened  to  prevent  it! 
Yes,  we  repeat,  Charlie  would  have  left  his  two  friends 
miles  and  miles  behind  in  what  is  called  "  no  time  "  if 
he  had  not  run  straight  into  a  gorge  which  was  sur- 
rounded by  inaccessible  precipices,  and  out  of  which 
there  was  no  exit  except  by  the  entrance,  which  was 
immediately  barred  by  Henri,  while  Joe  advanced  to 
catch  the  runaway. 

For  two  hours  at  least  did  Joe  Blunt  essay  to  catch 
Charlie,  and  during  that  space  of  time  he  utterly  failed. 
The  horse  seemed  to  have  made  up  his  mind  for  what 
is  vulgarly  termed  "  a  lark." 

"It  Avon't  do,  Henri,"  said  Joe,  advancing  towards 
his  companion,  and  wiping  his  forehead  with  the  cuff 
of  his  leathern  coat.  "  I  can't  catch  him.  The  wind's 
a-most  blowed  out  o'  me  body." 

"  Dat  am  vexatiable,"  replied  Henri,  in  a  tone  of 
commiseration.     "  S'posc  I  wos  make  try  ?  " 


1. 


^ 


816 


CHARLIE   BURIED    ALIVE. 


"  In  that  case  I  s'pose  ye  would  fail.  But  go  ahead 
an'  do  what  ye  can.     I'll  hold  yer  horse." 

So  Henri  began  by  a  rush  and  a  flourish  of  legs  and 
arms  that  nearly  frightened  the  horse  out  of  his  wits. 
For  half  an  hour  he  went  through  all  these  complications 
of  running  and  twisting  of  which  he  was  capable,  with- 
out success,  when  Joe  Blunt  suddenly  uttered  a  sten- 
torian yell  that  rooted  him  to  the  spot  on  which  he 
stood. 

To  account  for  this,  we  must  explain  that  in  the 
heights  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  vast  accumulations  of 
snow  take  place  among  the  crevices  and  gorges  during 
winter.  Such  of  these  masses  as  form  on  steep  slopes 
are  loosened  by  occasional  tliaws,  and  are  precipitated 
in  the  form  of  avalanches  into  the  valley  below,  carry- 
ing trees  and  stones  along  with  them  in  their  thunder- 
ing descent.  In  the  gloomy  gorge  where  Dick's  horse 
had  taken  refuge,  the  precipices  were  so  steep  that 
many  avalanches  had  occurred,  as  was  evident  from  the 
mounds  of  heaped  snow  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  most  of 
them.  Neither  stones  nor  trees  were  carried  down  here, 
however,  for  the  cliffs  were  nearly  perpendicular,  and 
the  snow  slipping  over  their  edges  had  fallen  on  the 
grass  below.  Such  an  avalanche  was  now  about  to  take 
place,  and  it  was  this  that  caused  Joe  to  utter  his  cry 
of  alarm  and  warning. 


WM 


BRUIN  A   GRAVE-DIGGER. 


317 


Henri  and  the  horse  were,  directly  under  the  cliflf 
over  which  it  was  about  to  be  hurled,  the  latter  close 
to  the  wall  of  rock,  the  other  at  some  distance  away 
from  it. 

Joe  cried  again,  "Back,  Henri!  back  vite!"  when 
the  mass  Jlowcd  over  and  fell  with  a  roar  like  prolonged 
thunder.  Henri  sprang  back  in  time  to  save  his  life, 
though  he  was  knocked  down  and  almost  stunned,  but 
poor  Charlie  was  completely  buried  under  the  ava- 
lanche, which  now  presented  the  appearance  of  a  hill 
of  snow. 

The  instant  Henri  recovered  sufficiently,  Joe  and  he 
mounted  their  horses  and  galloped  back  to  the  camp  as 
fast  as  possible. 

Meanwhile,  another  spectator  stepped  forward  upon 
the  scene  they  had  left,  and  surveyed  the  snow  hill  with 
a  critical  eye.  This  was  no  less  than  a  grizzly  bear 
which  had,  unobserved,  been  a  spectator,  and  which  im- 
mediately proceeded  to  dig  into  the  mound  with  the 
purpose,  no  doubt,  of  disentombing  the  carcase  of  the 
horse  for  purposes  of  his  own. 

While  he  was  thus  actively  engaged,  the  two  hunters 
reached  the  camp  where  they  found  that  Pierre  and  hia 
party  had  just  arrived.  The  men  sent  out  in  search  ^f 
them  had  scarcely  advanced  a  mile  when  they  found 
them  trudging  back  to  the  camp  in  a  very  disconsolate 
manner.     But  all  their  sorrows  were  put  to  flight  on 

27* 


r.. 


18        J I 


318 


THE   RESCUE. 


hearing  of  the  curious  way  in  which  the  horses  had 
been  returned  to  them  with  interest. 

Scarcely  had  Dick  Varley,  however,  congratulated 
himself  on  the  recovery  of  his  gallant  steed,  when  he 
was  thrown  into  despair  by  the  sudden  arrival  of  Joe 
with  the  tidings  of  the  catastrophe  we  have  just  re- 
lated. 

Of  course  there  was  a  general  rush  to  the  rescue. 
Only  a  few  men  were  ordered  to  remain  to  guard  the 
camp,  while  the  remainder  mounted  their  horses  and 
galloped  towards  the  gorge  where  Charlie  had  been  en- 
tombed. On  arriving,  they  found  that  Bruin  had 
worked  with  such  laudable  zeal  that  nothing  but  the 
tip  of  his  tail  was  seen  sticking  out  of  the  hole  which 
he  had  dug.  The  hunters  could  not  refrain  from  laugh- 
ing as  they  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  standing  in  a 
semicircle  in  front  of  the  hole,  prepared  to  fire.  But 
Crusoe  resolved  to  have  the  honor  of  leading  the  assault. 
He  seized  fast  hold  of  Bruin's  flank,  and  caused  his 
teeth  to  meet  therein.  Caleb  backed  out  at  once  and 
turned  round,  but  before  he  could  recover  from  his  sur- 
prise a  dozen  bullets  pierced  his  heart  and  brain. 

"  Now,  lads,"  cried  Cameron,  setting  to  work  with  a 
large  wooden  shovel,  "  work  like  niggers.  If  there's 
any  life  left  in  the  horse,  it'll  soon  be  smothered  out 
unless  we  set  him  free." 

The  men  needed  no  urging,  however.     They  worked 


THE   RESCUE. 


319 


as  if  their  lives  depended  on  their  exertions.  Dick 
Varley,  in  particular,  labored  like  a  young  Hercules, 
and  Henri  hurled  masses  of  snow  about  in  a  most  sur- 
prising manner.  Crusoe,  too,  entered  heartily  into  the 
spirit  of  the  work,  and,  scraping  with  his  forepaws,  sent 
such  a  continuous  shower  of  snow  behind  hira  that  he 
was  speedily  lost  to  view  in  a  hole  of  his  own  exca- 
vating. In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  a  cavern  was 
dug  in  the  mound  almost  close  up  to  the  cliff,  and  the 
men  were  beginning  to  look  about  for  the  crushed  body 
of  Dick's  steed,  when  an  exclamation  from  Henri  at- 
tracted their  attention. 

"  Ha !  mes  ami,  here  am  be  one  hole." 

The  truth  of  this  could  not  be  doubted,  for  the 
eccentric  trapper  had  thrust  his  shovel  through  the  wall 
of  snow  into  Avhat  appeared  to  be  a  cavern  beyond,  and 
immediately  followed  up  his  remark  by  thrusting  in  his 
head  and  shoulders.  He  drew  them  out  in  a  few  sec- 
onds, with  a  look  of  intense  amazement. 

"  Voila  !  Joe  Blunt.  Look  in  dere,  and  you  shall  see 
fat  you  will  behold." 

"  Why,  it's  the  horse,  I  do  b'lieve ! "  cried  Joe.  "  Go 
ahead,  lads." 

So  saying,  he  resumed  his  shovelling  vigorously,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  hole  was  opened  up  sufficiently  to 
enable  a  man  to  enter.  Dick  sprang  in,  and  there  stood 
Charhe  close  beside  the  clifi)  looking  as  sedate  and  uu- 


:M!i 


III 


S20 


THE-  RESCUE. 


concerned  as  if  all  that  had  been  going  on  had  no  refer- 
ence to  him  whatever. 

The  cause  of  his  safety  was  simple  enough.  The 
precipice  beside  which  he  stood  when  the  avalanche  oc- 
curred overhung  its  base  at  that  point  considerably,  so 
that  when  the  snow  descended,  a  clear  space  of  several 
feet  wide  was  left  all  along  its  base.  Here  Charlie  had 
remained  in  perfect  comfort  until  his  friends  dug  him 
out. 

Congratulating  themselves  not  a  little  on  having  saved 
the  charger  and  bagged  a  grizzly  bear,  the  trappers  re- 
mounted, and  returned  to  the  camp. 

For  some  time  after  this  nothing  worthy  of  particu- 
lar note  occurred.  The  trapping  operations  went  on 
prosperously  and  without  interruption  from  the  Indians, 
who  seemed  to  have  left  the  locality  altogether.  Dur- 
ing this  period,  Dick,  and  Crusoe,  and  Charlie  had  many 
excursions  together,  and  the  silver  rifle  full  many  a  time 
sent  death  to  the  heart  of  bear,  and  elk,  and  buffalo, 
while,  indirectly,  it  sent  joy  to  the  heart  of  man,  woman, 
and  child  in  camp,  in  the  shape  of  juicy  steaks  and  mar- 
row-bones. Joe  and  Henri  devoted  themselves  almost 
exclusively  to  trapping  beaver,  in  which  pursuit  they 
were  so  successful  that  they  speedily  became  wealthy 
men,  according  to  backwood  notions  of  wealth.  With 
the  beaver  t^at  they  caught,  they  purchased  from  Cam- 
eron's store  powder  and  shot  enough  for  a  long  hunting 


TRAPPING   LIFE. 


821 


expedition  and  a  couple  of  spare  horses  to  carry  their 
packs.  They  also  purchased  a  large  assortment  of  such 
goods  and  trinkets  as  would  prove  acceptable  to  Indians, 
and  supplied  themselves  with  new  blankets,  and  a  few 
pairs  of  strong  moccasins,  of  which  they  stood  much  in 
need. 

Thus  they  went  on  from  day  to  day,  until  symptoms 
of  the  approach  of  winter  warned  them  that  it  was  time 
to  return  to  the  Mustang  Valley.  About  this  time  an 
event  occurred  which  totally  changed  the  aspect  of  af- 
fairs in  these  remote  valleys  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  precipitated  the  departure  of  our  four  friends,  Dick, 
Joe,  Henri,  and  Crusoe.  This  was  the  sudden  arrival 
of  a  whole  tribe  of  Indians.  As  their  advent  was  some- 
what remarkable,  we  shall  devote  to  it  the  commence- 
ment of  a  new  chapter. 


'i 


822 


MYSTERIOUS   SOUNDS. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Savage  Sports.  —  Living  Cataracts. — An  Alarm. — Indians  and  their 
Doings.  —  Tlie  Stampedo.  —  Charlie  again. 

One  day  Dick  Varley  was  out  on  a  solitary  hunting 
expedition  near  the  rocky  gorge,  where  his  horse  had 
received  temporary  burial  a  week  or  two  before.  Cru- 
soe was  with  him,  of  course.  Dick  Imd  tied  Charlie  to 
a  tree,  and  was  sunninp  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  cliff, 
from  the  top  of  which  'ad  a  fine  view  of  the  valley 

and  the  rugged  precipices  that  hemmed  it  in. 

Just  in  front  of  the  spot  on  which  he  sat,  the  preci- 
pices on  the  opposite  side  of  the  gorge  rose  to  a  consid- 
erable height  above  him,  so  that  their  ragged  outlines 
were  drawn  sharply  across  the  clear  sky.  Dick  was 
gazing  in  dreamy  silence  at  the  jutting  rocks  and  dar'i 
caverns,  and  speculating  on  the  probable  number  of 
bears  that  dwelt  there,  when  a  slight  degree  of  restless- 
ness on  the  part  of  Crusoe  attracted  him. 

"  What  is't,  pup  ? "  said  he,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
dog's  broad  back. 

Crusoe  looked  the  answer,  "  I  don't  know,  Dick,  but 


MYSTERIOUS   SOUNDS. 


323 


it's  something^  you  may  depend  upon  it,  else  I  would 
not  have  disturbed  you." 

Dick  lifted  his  rifle  from  the  ground,  and  laid  it  in 
the  hollow  of  his  left  arm. 

"  There  must,  be  something  in  the  wind,**  remarked 
Dick. 

As  wind  is  known  to  be  composed  of  two  distinct 
gases,  Crusoe  felt  perfectly  safe  in  replying  "  Yes,"  with 
his  tail.  Immediately  after  he  added,  "  Hallo !  did  you 
hear  that  ?  "  —  with  his  ears. 

Dick  did  hear  it,  and  sprang  hastily  to  his  feet,  as  a 
sound  like,  yet  unlike,  distant  thunder  came  faintly  down 
upon  the  breeze.  In  a  few  seconds  the  sound  increased 
to  a  roar  in  which  was  mingled  the  wild  cries  of  men. 
Neither  Dick  nor  Crusoe  moved,  for  the  sounds  came 
from  behind  the  heights  in  front  of  them,  and  they  felt 
1  hat  the  only  way  to  solve  the  question,  "  What  can  the 
sounds  be?"  was  to  wait  till  the  sounds  should  solve  it 
themselves. 

Suddenly  the  muffled  sounds  gave  place  to  the  dis- 
tinct bellowing  of  cattle,  the  clatter  of  innumerable  hoofs, 
and  the  yells  of  savage  men,  while  at  the  same  moment 
the  edges  of  the  opposite  cliffs  became  alive  with  Indians 
and  buffaloes  rushing  about  in  frantic  haste  —  the 
former  almost  mad  with  savage  excitement,  the  latter 
with  blind  rage  and  terror. 

On  reaching  the  edge  of  the  dizzy  precipice,  the 


w 


324 


SAVAGE   DOINGS. 


ii 


buffaloes  turned  abruptly  and  tossed  their  ponderous 
heads  as  they  coursed  along  the  edge.  Yet  a  few  of 
them,  unable  to  check  their  headlong  course,  fell  over, 
and  were  da^^hed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  below.  Such 
falls,  Dick  observed,  were  hailed  with  shouts  of  delight 
by  the  Indians,  whose  sole  object  evidently  was,  to 
enjoy  the  sport  of  driving  tne  terrified  animals  over  the 
precipice.  The  wily  savages  had  chosen  their  ground 
well  for  this  purpose. 

The  cliff  immediately  opposite  to  Dick  Varley  was 
a  huge  projection  from  the  precipice  that  hemmed  ia 
the  gorge,  or  species  of  cape  or  promontory  several 
hundred  yards  wide  at  the  base,  and  narrowing 
abruptly  to  a  point.  The  sides  of  this  wedge-shaped 
projection  were  quite  perpendicular;  indeed,  in  some 
places  the  top  overhung  the  base,  and  they  were  at 
least  three  hundred  feet  high.  Broken  and  jagged 
rocks,  of  that  peculiarly  chaotic  character  which  pro- 
bably suggested  the  name  to  this  part  of  the  great 
American  chain,  projected  from,  and  were  scattered  all 
round  the  cliffs.  Over  these  the  Indians,  whose  num- 
bers increased  every  moment,  strove  to  drive  the  luck- 
less herd  of  buffaloes  that  had  chanced  to  fall  in  their 
way.  The  task  was  easy.  The  unsuspecting  animals, 
of  which  there  were  hundreds,  rushed  in  a  dense  mass 
upon  the  cape  referred  to.  On  they  came  with  irre- 
sistible  impetuosity,   bellowing   furiously,   while    their 


A   LIVING   CATARACT. 


325 


hoofs  thundered  on  the  turf  with  the  rauiTled  continuous 
roar  of  a  distant,  but  mighty  cataract  —  the  Indians, 
meanwhile,  urging  them  on  by  hideous  yell  and  frantic 
gesture. 

The  advance-guard  came  bounding  madly  to  the  edge 
of  the  precipice.  Here  they  stopped  short,  and  gazed 
affrighted  at  the  gulf  below.  It  was  but  for  a  moment. 
The  irresistible  momentum  of  the  flying  mass  behind 
pushed  them  over.  Down  they  came,  absolutely  a  liv- 
ing cataract,  upon  the  rocks  below.  Some  struck  on  the 
projecting  rocks  in  the  descent,  and  their  bodies  were 
dashed  almost  in  piecos,  while  their  blood  spurted  out 
in  showers.  Others  leaped  from  rock  to  rock  with 
awful  bounds,  until,  losing  their  foothold,  they  fell 
headlong,  while  others  descended  sheer  down  into  the 
sweltering  mass  that  lay  shattered  at  the  base  of  the 
cliffs. 

Dick  Yarley  and  his  dog  remained  rooted  to  the  rock, 

as  they  gazed  at  the  sickening  sight,  as  if  petrified. 

Scarce  fifty  of  that  noble  herd  of  buffaloes  escaped  the 

awful  leap,  but  they  escaped  only  to  fall  before  the 

arrows  of  their   ruthless   pursuers.      Dick   had   often 

heard  of  this  tendency  of  the  Indians,  where  buffaloes 

were  very  numerous,  to  drive  them  over  precipices  in 

mere  wanton  sport  and  cruelty,  but  he  had  never  seen 

it  until  now,  and  the  sight  filled  his  soul  with  horror. 

It  was  not  until  the  din  and  tumult  of  the  perishing 

23 


|H 


N 


^ 


«  ..i 


326 


THE    ALARM. 


1 


w 


herd  and  i!.'  shrill  veils  of  the  Indians  had  almost  died 
away  that  he  turned  to  quit  the  spot.  But  the  instant 
he  did  so  another  shout  was  raised.  The  savages  had 
observed  him,  and  were  seen  galloping  along  the  cliffs 
towards  the  head  of  the  gorge,  with  the  obvious  inten- 
tion of  gaining  the  other  side  and  capturing  him.  Dick 
sprang  on  Charlie's  back,  and  the  next  instant  was  Hy- 
ing down  the  valley  towards  the  camp. 

He  did  n'"%  however,  fear  being  overtaken,  for  the 
gorge  could  not  be  crossed,  and  the  way  round  the  head 
of  it  was  long  and  rugged  ;  but  he  was  anxious  to  alarm 
the  camp  as  quickly  as  possible,  so  that  they  might  have 
time  to  call  in  the  more  distant  trappers  and  make  prepa- 
rations for  defence. 

"  Where  away  now,  youngster,"  inquired  Cameron, 
emerging  from  his  tent  as  Dick,  taking  the  brook  that 
flowed  in  front  at  a  flying  leap,  came  crashing  through 
the  bushes  into  the  midst  of  the  fur-packs  at  full  speed. 

"  Injuns  ! "  ejaculated  Dick,  reining  up,  and  vaulting 
out  of  the  saddle.  "  Hundreds  of  'em.  Fiends  incar- 
nate every  one ! " 

"  Are  they  near  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  an  hour  '11  bring  them  down  on  us.  Are  Joe 
and  Henri  far  from  camp  to-day  ?  " 

"  At  Ten-mile  Creek,"  replied  Cameron  with  an  ex- 
pression of  bitterness,  as  he  caught  up  his  gun  aud 
shouted  to  several  men,  who  hurried  up  on  seeing  our 
hero's  burst  into  camp. 


THE    ALARM. 


327 


**  Ten-mile  Creek ! "  muttered  Dick.  "  I'll  bring  'em 
in,  though,"  he  continued,  glancing  at  several  of  the 
camp  horses  that  grazed  close  at  hand. 

In  another  moment  he  was  on  Charlie's  back,  the 
line  of  one  of  the  best  horses  was  in  his  hand,  and  al- 
most before  Cameron  knew  what  he  was  about  he  was 
flying  down  the  valley  like  the  wind.  Charlie  often 
stretched  out  at  full  speed  to  please  his  young  master, 
but  seldom  had  he  been  urged  forward  as  he  was  upon 
this  occasion.  The  led  horse  being  light  and  wild  kept 
well  up,  and,  in  a  marvellously  short  space  of  time,  they 
were  at  Ten-mile  Creek. 

"  Hallo,  Dick,  wot's  to  do  ?  "  inquired  Joe  Blunt,  who 
was  up  to  his  knees  in  the  water,  setting  a  trap  at  the 
moment  his  friend  galloped  up. 

"Injuns!     Where's  Henri ? "  demanded  Dick. 

"  At  the  head  o'  the  dam  there." 

Dick  was  off  in  a  moment,  and  almost  instantly  re- 
turned with  Henri  galloping  beside  him. 

No  word  was  spoken.  In  time  of  action  these  men 
did  not  waste  words.  During  Dick's  momentary  ab- 
sence, .Joe  Blunt  had  caught  up  his  rifle  and  examined 
the  priming,  so  that  when  Dick  pulled  up  beside  him, 
he  merely  laid  his  hand  on  the  saddle,  saying,  "All 
right!"  as  he  vaulted  on  Charlie's  back  behind  his 
young  companion.  In  another  moment  they  M'cre  away 
at  full  speed.    The  mustang  seemed  to  feel  that  unwonted 


I 


r.ff 


328 


THE    CAMP. 


if  si 


exertions  were  required  of  him.  Double  weighted 
though  he  was,  he  kept  well  up  with  the  other  horse, 
and  in  less  than  two  hours  after  Dick's  leaving  the  camp 
the  three  hunters  came  in  sight  of  it. 

Meanwhile  Cameron  had  collected  nearly  all  his 
forces,  and  put  his  camp  in  a  state  of  defence  before  the 
Indians  arrived,  which  they  did  suddenly,  lind,  as  usual, 
at  full  gallop,  to  the  amount  of  at  least  two  hundred. 
They  did  not  at  first  seem  disposed  to  hold  friendly 
intercourse  with  the  trappers,  but  assembled  in  a  semi- 
circle round  the  camp  in  a  menac'.ng  attitude,  while  one 
of  their  chiefs  stepped  forward  tc  hold  a  palaver.  For 
some  time  the  conversation  on  both  sides  was  polite 
enough,  but  by  degrees  the  Indian  chief  assumed  an 
imperious  tone,  and  demanded  gifts  from  the  trappers, 
taking  care  to  enforce  his  request  by  hinting  that  thou- 
sands of  his  countiymen  were  not  far  distant.  Cameron 
stoutly  refused,  and  the  palaver  threatened  to  come  to 
an  abrupt  and  unpleasant  termination  just  at  the  time 
that  Dick  and  his  friends  appeared  on  the  scene  of  ac- 
tion. 

Tlie  brook  was  cleared  at  a  bound ;  the  tliree  hunters 
leaped  from  their  steeds  and  sprang  to  the  front  with  a 
degree  of  energy  that  had  a  visible  effect  on  the  sav- 
ages, and  Cameron,  seizing  the  moment,  proposed  that 
the  two  parties  should  smoke  a  pipe  and  hold  a  coun- 
cil.    The  Indians  agreed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 


i^S 


ARRIVAL    OF   THE    INDIANS. 


829 


were  engaged  in  animated  and  friendly  intercourse. 
The  speeches  were  long,  and  the  compliments  paid  on 
either  side  were  inflated,  and,  we  fear,  undeserved ;  but 
the  result  of  the  interview  was,  that  Cameron  made  the 
Indians  a  present  of  tobacco  and  a  few  trinkets,  and 
sent  them  back  to  their  friends  to  tell  them  that  he  was 
willing  to  trade  with  them. 

Next  day  the  whole  tribe  arrived  in  the  valley,  and 
pitched  their  deer-skin  tents  on  the  plain  opposite  to  the 
camp  of  the  white  men.  Their  numbers  far  exceeded 
Cameron's  expectation,  and  it  was  with  some  anxiety 
that  he  proceeded  to  strengthen  his  fortifications  as 
much  as  circumstances  and  the  nature  of  the  ground 
would  admit. 

The  Indian  camp,  which  numbered  upwards  of  a 
thousand  souls,  was  arranged  with  great  regularity,  and 
was  divided  into  three  distinct  sections,  each  section 
being  composed  of  a  separate  tribe.  The  Great  Snake 
Nation  at  that  time  embraced  three  tribes  or  divisions 
-—namely,  the  Shirry-dikas,  or  dog-eaters;  the  War- 
are-ree-kas,  or  fish-eaters ;  and  the  Banattees,  or  rob- 
bers. These  were  the  most  numerous  and  powerful 
Indians  on  the  west  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The 
Shirry-dikas  dwelt  in  the  plains,  and  hunted  the  buffa- 
loes ;  dressed  well ;  were  cleanly  ;  rich  in  horses  ;  bold, 
independent,  and  good  warriors.  The  War-are-ree-kas 
lived  chiefly  by  fishing,  and  were  found  on  the  banks 

28* 


5  ; 


830 


INDIANS    OF   THE    WEST. 


of  the  rivers  and  lakes  throughout  the  country.  They 
were  more  corpulent,  slovenly,  and  indolent  than  the 
Shirry-dikas,  and  more  peaceful.  The  Banattees,  as 
we  have  before  mentioned,  were  the  robbers  of  the 
mountains.  They  were  a  wild  and  contemptible  race, 
and  at  enmity  with  every  one.  In  summer  they  went 
about  nearly  naked.  In  winter  they  clothed  themselves 
in  the  skins  of  rabbits  and  wolves.  Being  excellent 
mimics,  they  could  imitate  the  howling  of  wolves,  the 
neighing  of  horses,  and  the  cries  of  birds,  by  which 
means  they  could  approach  travellers,  rob  them,  and 
then  fly  to  their  rocky  fastnesses  in  the  mountains,  where 
pursuit  was  vain. 

Such  were  the  men  who  now  assembled  in  front  of 
the  camp  of  the  fur-traders,  and  Cameron  soon  found 
that  the  news  of  his  presence  in  the  country  had  spread 
far  and  wide  among  the  natives,  bringing  them  to  the 
neighborhood  of  his  camp  in  immense  crowds,  so  that, 
during  the  next  few  days,  their  numbers  increased  to 
thousands. 

Several  long  palavers  quickly  ensued  between  the 
red  men  and  the  white,  and  the  two  great  chiefs  who 
seemed  to  hold  despotic  rule  over  the  assembled  tribes 
were  extremely  favorable  to  the  idea  of  universal 
peace  which  was  propounded  to  them.  In  several  set 
speeches  of  great  length  and  very  considerable  power, 
these  natural  orators  explained  their  willingness  to  enter 


COUNCILS   AND    ORATIONS. 


331 


into  amicable  relations  with  all  the  surrounding  nations 
as  well  as  with  the  white  men. 

"But,"  said  Pee-eye-em,  the  chief  of  the  Shirry- 
dikas,  a  man  above  six  feet  high,  and  of  immense 
muscular  strength,  —  "  but  my  tribe  cannot  answer  for 
the  Banattees,  who  are  robbers,  and  cannot  be  punished, 
because  they  dwell  in  scattered  families  among  the  moun- 
tains.    The  Banattees  are  bad ;  they  cannot  be  trusted." 

None  of  the  Banattees  were  present  at  the  council 
when  this  was  said ;  and  if  they  had  been  it  would  have 
mattered  little,  for  they  were  neither  fierce  nor  coura- 
geous, although  bold  enough  in  their  own  haunts  to  mur- 
der and  rob  the  unwary. 

The  second  chief  did  not  quite  agree  with  Pee-eye- 
em  ;  he  said  that  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  make 
peace  with  their  natural  enemies,  the  Peigans  and  the 
Blackfeet  on  the  east  side  of  the  mountains.  It  was 
very  desirable,  he  admitted,  but  neither  of  these  tribes 
would  consent  to  it,  he  felt  sure. 

Upon  this  Joe  Blunt  rose  and  said,  "  The  great  chief 
of  the  War-are-ree-kas  is  wise,  and  knows  that  enemies 
cannot  be  reconciled  unless  deputies  are  sent  to  make 
proposals  of  peace. 

"  The  Pale-face  does  not  know  the  Blackfeet," 
answered  the  chief.  "  Who  will  go  into  the  lands  of  the 
Blackfeet  ?  My  young  men  have  been  sent  once  and 
again,  and  their  scalps  are  now  fringes  to  the  leggings 


332 


COUNCILS   AND    ORATIONS. 


of  their  enemies.  Tiie  War-are-ree-kas  do  not  cross  the 
mountains  but  for  the  purpose  of  making  war. 

"  The  chief  speaks  truth,"  returned  Joe,  "  yet  there 
are  three  men  round  the  council  fire  who  will  go  to  the 
Blackfeet  and  the  Peigans  with  messages  of  peace  from 
the  Snakes  if  they  wish  it." 

Joe  pointed  to  himself,  Henri,  and  Dick  as  he  spoke, 
and  added,  "  We  three  do  not  belong  to  the  camp  of  the 
fur-traders ;  we  only  lodge  with  them  for  a  time.  The 
Great  Chief  of  the  white  men  has  sent  us  to  make  peace 
with  the  red  men,  and  to  tell  them  that  he  desires  to 
trade  with  them  —  to  exchange  hatchets,  and  guns,  and 
blankets  for  furs. 

This  declaration  interested  the  two  chiefs  greatly,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  discussion  they  agreed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  Joe  Blunt's  offer,  and  appoint  him  as  a  dep- 
uty to  the  court  of  their  enemies.  Having  arranged 
these  matters  to  their  satisfaction,  Cameron  bestowed  a 
red  flag  and  a  blue  surtout  with  brass  buttons  on  each 
of  the  chiefs,  and  a  variety  of  smaller  articles  on  the 
other  members  of  the  council,  and  sent  them  away  in  a 
particularly  amiable  frame  of  mind. 

Pee-eye-em  burst  the  blue  surtout  at  the  shoulders 
and  elbows  in  putting  it  on,  as  it  was  much  too  small 
for  his  gigantic  frame,  but,  never  having  seen  such  an 
article  of  apparel  before,  he  either  regarded  this  as  the 
natural  and  proper  consequences  of  putting  it  on,  or  was 


n 


COUNCILS  AND  ORATIONS. 


333 


totally  indifferent  to  it,  for  he  merely  looked  at  the  rents 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  while  his  squaw  surrepti- 
tiously cut  off  the  two  back  buttons  and  thrust  them 
into  her  bosom. 

By  the  time  the  council  closed  the  night  was  far 
advanced,  and  a  bright  moon  was  shedding  a  flood  of 
soft  light  over  the  picturesque  and  busy  scene. 

"I'll  go  to  the  Injun  camp,"  said  Joe  to  Walter 
Cameron,  as  the  chiefs  rose  to  depart.  "  The  season's 
far  enough  advanced  already;  it's  time  to  be  off;  and 
if  I'm  to  speak  for  the  Red-skins  in  the  Blackfeet  Coun- 
cil, I'd  need  to  know  what  to  say." 

"  Please  yourself.  Master  Blunt,"  answered  Cameron. 
"  I  like  your  company  and  that  of  your  friends,  and  if 
it  suited  you  I  would  be  glad  to  take  you  along  with  us 
to  the  coast  of  the  Pacific ;  but  your  mission  among  the 
Indians  is  a  good  one,  and  I'll  help  it  on  all  I  can.  I 
suppose  you  will  go  also  ?  "  he  added,  turning  to  Dick 
Varley,  who  was  still  seated  beside  the  council  fire 
caressing  Crusoe. 

"  Wherever  Joe  goes,  I  go,"  answered  Dick. 

Crusoe's  tail,  ears,  and  eyes  demonstrated  high  ap- 
proval of  the  sentiment  involved  in  this  speech. 

"  And  your  friend  Henri  ?  " 

"He  goes  too,"  answered  Joe.  It's  as  well  that  the 
Red-skins  should  see  the  three  o'  us  before  we  start  for 
the  east  side  o'  the  mountains.  Ho  !  Henri,  come  here, 
lad." 


w 


834 


COUNCILS   AND   ORATIONS. 


Henri  obeyed,  and  in  a  few  seconds  the  three  friends 
crossed  the  brook  to  the  Indian  camp,  and  were  guided 
to  the  principal  lodge  by  Pee-eye-em.  Here  a  great 
council  was  held,  and  the  proposed  attempt  at  negotia- 
tions for  peace  with  their  ancient  enemies  fully  dis- 
cussed. While  they  were  thus  engaged,  and  just  as 
Pee-eye-em  had,  in  the  energy  of  an  enthusiastic  pero- 
ration burst  the  blue  surtout  almost  up  to  the  collar,  a 
distant  rushing  sound  was  heard,  which  caused  every 
man  to  spring  to  his  feet,  run  out  of  the  tent,  and  seize 
his  weapons. 

"  What  can  it  be,  Joe  ?  "  whispered  Dick,  as  they 
stood  at  the  tent  door  leaning  on  their  rifles,  and  listen- 
ing intently. 

"Dun  'no,"  answered  Joe,  shortly. 

Most  of  the  numerous  fires  of  the  camp  had  gone  out, 
but  the  bright  moon  revealed  the  dusky  forms  of  thou- 
sands of  Indians,  whom  the  unwonted  sound  had  star- 
tled, moving  rapidly  about. 

The  mystery  was  soon  explained.  The  Indian  camp 
wai  pitched  on  an  open  plain  of  several  miles  in  extent, 
which  took  a  sudden  bend  half  a  mile  distant,  where  a 
spur  of  the  mountains  shut  out  the  further  end  of  the 
valley  from  view.  From  beyond  this  point  the  dull 
rumbling  sound  proceeded.  Suddenly  there  was  a  roar 
as  if  a  mighty  cataract  had  been  let  loose  upon  the 
Bcene.     At  the  same  moment  a  countless  herd  of  wild 


wssaa 


THE    8TAMPED0. 


335 


horses  came  thundering  round  the  base  of  the  mountain 
and  swept  over  the  plain  straight  towards  the  Indian 
camp. 

"  A  stampedo ! "  cried  Joe,  springing  to  the  assistance 
of  Pee-eye-en;,  whose  favorite  horses  were  picketed 
near  the  tent. 

On  they  came  Hke  a  livirig  torrent,  and  the  thunder 
of  a  thousand  hoofs  was  soon  mingled  with  the  howling 
of  hundreds  of  dogs  in  the  camp,  and  the  yelling  of 
Indians,  as  they  vainly  endeavored  to  restrain  the  rising 
excitement  of  their  steeds.  Henri  and  Dick  stood  rooted 
to  the  ground,  gazing  in  silent  wonder  at  the  fierce  and 
uncontrollable  gallop  of  the  thousands  of  panic-stricken 
horses  that  bore  down  upon  the  camp  with  the  tumultu- 
ous violence  of  a  mighty  cataract. 

As  the  maddened  troop  drew  nigh,  the  camp  horses 
began  to  snort  and  tremble  violently,  and  when  the 
rush  of  the  wild  steeds  was  almost  upon  them,  they 
became  ungovernable  with  terror,  broke  their  halters 
and  hobbles,  and  dashed  wildly  about.  To  add  to  the 
confusion  at  that  moment,  a  cloud  passed  over  the  moon 
and  threw  the  whole  scene  into  deep  obscurity.  Blind 
with  terror,  which  was  probably  increased  by  the  din 
of  their  own  mad  flight,  the  galloping  troop  came  on, 
and,  with  a  sound  like  the  continuous  roar  of  thunder 
that  for  an  instant  drowned  the  yell  of  dog  and  man, 


■I 


836 


THE   8TAMPED0. 


they  burst  upon  the  camp,  trampling  over  packs  and 
skins,  and  dried  meat,  &c.,  in  their  headlong  speed,  and 
overturning  several  of  the  smaller  tents.  In  another 
moment  they  swept  out  upon  the  plain  beyond,  and  were 
soon  lost  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  while  the  yelp- 
ing of  dogs,  as  they  vainly  pursued  them,  mingled  and 
gradually  died  away  with  the  distant  thunder  of  their 
retreat. 

This  was  a  "  stampedo,"  one  of  the  most  extraordi- 
nary scenes  that  can  be  witnessed  in  the  western  wilder- 

li-Ji  s. 

"  Lend  a  hand,  Henri,"  shouted  Joe,  who  was  strug- 
gling with  a  powerful  horse.  "  Wot's  corned  over  yer 
brains,  man?  This  brute'll  git  off  if  ye  don't  look 
sharp." 

Dick  and  Henri  both  answered  to  the  summons,  and 
they  succeeded  in  throwing  the  struggling  animal  on  its 
side  and  holding  it  down  until  its  excitement  was  some- 
what abated.  Pee-eye-em  had  also  been  successful  in 
securing  his  favorite  hunter,  but  nearly  every  other 
horse  belonging  to  the  cari]>  had  broken  loose  and 
joined  the  whirlwind  j?all'>t»,  but  they  gradually  dropped 
out,  and,  before  m'  2:,  the  most  of  them  were  secured 
by  their         •  were  at  least  two  thousand 

horses       1  jer  of  dogs  in  the  part  of  the 

Indi;         iip,  wL    ..  aau  been  thus  over-run  by  the  wild 


A 


i' ■-:»■■■ 


I 


,^^^' 


heir              1 

ordi- 

a 

Ider- 

m 

rug- 

'  yer 
look 

,  and 

n  its 

orae- 

ul  in 

other 
and 

pped 
jured 

isand 

f  the 

wild 

4*55,- 


THR  STAKrKr- 


imRftK*. 


Ji; 


^''11 1 


r..qR 


THK    RTAMPKnO. 


luniphii 


plain  beyond,  aud  v  • 

pursued  thc^m,  niingk'     : 
the  distant  thunder  of  their 


"i  his  was 


■vtrn' .'(li- 


Ti:' 


d  an 


ii»,  and 
I  on  its 

ssful  ill 

her 


s 


CHARLIE   AGAIN. 


337 


mustangs,  the  turmoil,  as  may  be  imagined,  was  prodi- 
gious! Yet,  strange  to  say,  no  accident  of  a  serious 
nature  occurred  beyond  the  loss  of  several  chargers. 

In  the  midst  of  this  exciting  scene  there  was  one 
heart  there  which  beat  with  a  nervous  vehemence  that 
wellnigh  burst  it.  This  was  the  heart  of  Dick  Varley's 
horse,  Charlie.  Well  known  to  him  was  that  distant 
rumbling  sound  that  floated  on  the  night  air  into  the 
fur-trader's  camp  where  he  was  picketed  close  to  Came- 
ron's tent.  Many  a  time  had  he  heard  the  approach 
of  such  a  wild  troop,  and  often,  in  days  not  long  gone 
by,  had  his  shrill  neigh  rung  out  as  he  joined  and  led 
the  panic-stricken  band.  He  was  first  to  hear  the 
sound,  and  by  his  restive  actions,  to  draw  the  atten- 
tion of  the  fur-traders  to  it.  As  a  precautionary  meas- 
ure they  all  sprang  up  and  stood  by  their  horses  to 
soothe  them,  but  as  a  brook  with  a  belt  of  bushes  and 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  plain  intervened  between  their  camp 
and  the  mustangs  as  they  flew  past,  they  had  little  or 
no  trouble  in  restraining  them.  Not  so,  however,  with 
Charlie.  At  the  very  moment  that  his  master  was 
congratulating  himself  on  the  supposed  security  of  his 
position,  he  wrenched  the  halter  from  the  hand  of  him 
who  held  it,  burst  through  the  barrier  of  felled  trees 
that  had  been  thrown  round  the  camp,  cleared  the  brook 

at  a  bound,  and,  with  a  wild  hilarious  neigh,  resumed 

29 


a 


m 


H 


338 


CRUSOE  CAPTURES  CHARLIE. 


his  old  place  in  the  ranks  of  the  free-born  mustangs  of 
the  prairie. 

Little  did  Dick  think,  when  the  flood  of  horses  swept 
past  him,  that  his  own  good  steed  was  there,  rejoicing 
in  his  recovered  liberty.  But  Crusoe  knew  it.  Ay, 
the  wind  had  borne  down  the  information  to  his  acute 
nose  before  the  living  storm  burst  upon  the  camp,  and 
when  Charlie  rushed  past  with  the  long  tough  halter 
trailing  at  his  heels,  Crusoe  sprang  to  his  side,  seized 
the  end  of  the  halter  with  his  teeth,  and  galloped  off 
along  with  him. 

It  was  a  long  gallop  and  a  tough  one,  but  Crusoe  held 
on,  for  it  was  a  settled  principle  in  his  mind  never  to  give 
in.  At  first  the  check  upon  Charlie's  speed  was  imper- 
ceptible, but  by  degrees  the  weight  of  the  gigantic  dog 
began  to  tell,  and,  after  a  time,  they  fell  a  little  to  the 
rear ;  then,  by  good  fortune,  the  troop  passed  through 
a  mass  of  underwood,  and  the  line,  getting  entangled, 
brought  their  mad  career  forcibly  to  a  close ;  the  mus- 
tangs passed  on,  and  the  two  friends  were  left  to  keep 
each  other  company  in  the  dark. 

How  long  they  would  have  remained  thus  is  uncer- 
tain, for  neither  of  them  had  sagacity  enough  to  undo  a 
complicated  entanglement ;  fortunately,  however,  in  his 
energetic  tugs  at  the  line,  Crusoe's  sharp  teeth  partially 
severed  it,  and  a  sudden  start  on  the  part  of  Charlie 


CHARLIE   BROUGHT   IN. 


839 


of 


keep 


caused  it  to  part.  Before  he  could  escape,  Crusoe  again 
seized  the  end  of  it,  and  led  him  slowly  but  steadily 
back  to  the  Indian  camp,  never  halting  or  turning  aside 
until-  he  had  placed  the  line  in  Dick  Varley's  hand. 

"  Hallo,  pup !  where  have  ye  bin  ?  How  did  ye 
bring  him  here?"  exclaimed  Dick,  as  he  gazed  in 
amazement  at  his  foam-covered  horse. 

Crusoe  wagged  his  tail,  as  if  to  say,  "  Be  thankful 
that  you've  got  him,  Dick,  ray  boy,  and  don't  ask  ques- 
tions that  you  know  I  can't  answer." 

"  He  must  ha'  broke  loose  and  jined  the  stampedo," 
remarked  Joe,  coming  out  of  the  chief's  tent  at  the  mo- 
ment ;  "  but  tie  him  up,  Dick,  and  come  in,  for  we  want 
to  settle  about  startin'  to-morrow  or  nixt  day." 

Having  fastened  Charlie  to  a  stake,  and  ordered  Cru- 
soe to  watch  him,  Dick  re-entered  the  tent  where  the 
council  had  re-assembled,  and  where  Pee-eye-em  —  hav- 
ing, in  the  recent  struggle,  split  the  blue  surtout  com- 
pletely up  to  the  collar,  so  that  his  back  bone  was  visible 
throughout  the  greater  part  of  its  length  —  was  holding 
forth  in  eloquent  strains  on  the  subject  of  peace  in  gen- 
eral and  peace  with  the  Blackfeet,  the  ancient  enemies 
of  the  Shirry-dikas,  in  particular. 


il 


ft ! 


■■  ^,y<:/P  "^ 


940 


INDIAN   DOINGS. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 


Plans  and  Prospects.  —  Dick  becomes  Home-sick,  and  Henri  Meta- 
physical. —  The  Indi    is  attack  the  Camp.  —  A  Blow-up. 

"  On  the  following  day  the  Indians  gave  themselves  up 
to  unlimited  feasting,  in  consequence  of  the  arrival  of  a 
large  body  of  hunters  with  an  immense  supply  of  buf- 
falo meat.  It  was  a  regular  day  of  rejoicing.  Upwards 
of  six  hundred  buffaloes  had  been  killed,  and  as  the  sup- 
ply of  meat  before  their  arrival  had  been  ample,  the 
camp  was  now  overflowing  with  plenty.  Feasts  were 
given  by  the  chiefs,  and  the  medicine-men  went  about 
the  camp  uttering  loud  cries,  which  were  meant  to  ex- 
press their  gratitude  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  the  bounti- 
ful supply  of  food.  They  also  carried  a  portion  of  meat 
to  the  aged  and  infirm  who  were  unable  to  hunt  for 
themselves,  and  had  no  young  men  in  their  family  circle 
to  hunt  for  them. 

This  arrival  of  the  hunters  was  a  fortunate  circum- 
stance, as  it  put  the  Indians  in  great  good  humor,  and 
inclined  them  to  hold  friendly  intercourse  with  the  trap- 
pers, who  for  some  time  continued  to  drive  a  brisk  trade 
in  furs.     Having  no  market  for  the  disposal  of  their  furs, 


PLANS   AND   PROSPECTS. 


841 


tne  Indians  of  course  had  more  than  they  knew  what  to 
do  with,  and  were  therefore  glad  to  exchange  those  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  valuable  kind  for  a  mere  trifle,  so 
that  the  trappers  laid  aside  their  traps  for  a  time  and 
devoted  themselves  to  traffic. 

Meanwhile  Joe  Blunt  and  his  friends  made  prepara- 
tions for  their  return  journey. 

"  Ye  see,"  remarked  Joe  to  Henri  and  Dick,  as  they 
sat  beside  the  fire  in  Pee-eye-em's  lodge,  and  feasted  on 
a  potful  of  grasshopper  soup,  which  the  great  chief's 
squaw  had  just  placed  before  them,  —  "  ye  see,  my  cal- 
c'lations  is  as  follows.  Wot  with  trappin'  beavers  and 
huntin',  we  three  ha'  made  enough  to  sot  us  up,  an'  it 
likes  us,  in  the  Mustang  Valley  —  " 

"  Ha ! "  interrupted  Dick,  remitting  for  a  few  seconds 
the  use  of  his  teeth  in  order  to  exercise  his  tongue,  — 
"ha!  Joe,  but  it  don't  like  me!  What,  give  up  a 
hunter's  life  and  become  a  farmer?  I  should  think 
not!" 

"Bon!"  ejaculated  Henri,  but  whether  the  remark 
had  reference  to  the  grasshopper  soup  or  the  sentiment 
we  cannot  tell. 

"Well,"  continued  Joe,  commencing  to  devour  a 
large  buffalo  steak  with  a  hunter's  appetite,  "ye'U 
please  yourselves,  lads,  as  to  that ;  but  as  I  wos  sayin* 
we've  got  a  powerful  lot  o'  furs,  an'  a  big  pack  o'  odds 
and  ends  for  the  Injuns  we  chance  to  meet  with  by  the 

29* 


842 


FLANS  AND   PROSPECTS. 


I: 


way,  an'  powder  and  lead  to  last  us  a  twelvemonth,  be- 
sides five  good  horses  to  carry  us  an'  our  packs  over  the 
plains ;  so  if  it's  agreeable  to  you,  I  mean  to  make  a 
bee-line  for  the  Mustang  Valley.  We're  pretty  sure  to 
meet  with  Blackfeet  on  the  way,  and  if  we  do  we'll  try 
to  make  peace  between  them  an'  the  Snakes.  I  'xpect 
it'll  bcpretty  well  on  for  six  weeks  afore  we  git  to  home, 
so  we'll  start  to-morrow." 

"  Dat  is  fat  vill  do  ver'  veil,"  said  Henri ;  "  vill  you 
please  donnez  me  one  petit  morsel  of  steak." 

"  I'm  ready  for  any  thing,  Joe,"  cried  Dick,  "  you  are 
leader.  Just  point  the  way,  and  I'll  answer  for  two  o* 
us  followin'  ye  —  eh !  won't  we,  Crusoe." 

"  We  will,"  remarked  the  dog  quietly. 

"  How  comes  it,"  inquired  Dick,  "  that  these  Indians 
don't  care  for  our  tobacco  ?  " 

"  They  like  their  own  better,  I  s'pose,"  answered  Joe ; 
"  most  all  the  western  Injuns  do.  They  make  it  o'  the 
dried  leaves  o'  the  shumac  and  the  inner  bark  o'  the 
red-willow,  chopped  very  small  an'  mixed  together. 
They  call  this  stuff  Kinnehinnik,  but  they  like  to  mix 
about  a  fourth  o'  our  tobacco  with  it,  so  Pee-eye-em  tells 
me,  8  '  he's  a  good  judge ;  the  amount  that  red-skinned 
mortal  smokes  is  oncommon." 

"What  are  they  doin'  yonder?"  inquired  Dick, 
pointing  to  a  group  of  men  who  had  been  feasting  for 
some  time  past  in  front  of  a  tent  within  sight  of  our 
trio. 


PREPARATIONS    TO    DEPART. 


343 


"  Goin'  to  sing,  I  think,"  replied  Joe. 

As  he  spoke,  six  young  warriors  were  seen  to  work 
their  bodies  about  in  a  very  remarkable  way,  and  give 
utterance  to  still  more  remarkable  sounds,  which  gradu- 
ally increased  until  the  singers  burst  out  into  that 
terrific  yell,  or  war-whoop,  for  which  American  savages 
have  long  been  famous.  Its  effect  would  have  been 
appalling  to  unaccustomed  ears.  Then  they  allowed 
their  voices  to  die  away  in  soft,  plaintive  tones,  while 
their  action  corresponded  thereto.  Suddenly  the  furious 
style  was  revived,  and  the  men  wrought  themselves  into 
a  condition*  little  short  of  madness,  while  their  yells 
rung  wildly  through  the  camp.  This  was  too  much  for 
ordinary  canine  nature  to  withstand,  so  all  the  dogs  in 
the  neighborhood  joined  in  the  horrible  chorus. 

Crusoe  had  long  since  learned  to  treat  the  eccentrici- 
ties of  Indians  and  their  curs  with  dignified  contempt. 
He  paid  no  attention  to  this  serenade,  but  lay  sleeping 
by  the  fire  "ntil  Dick  and  his  companions  rose  to  take 
leave  of  their  host,  and  return  to  the  camp  of  the  fur- 
traders.  The  remainder  of  that  night  was  spent  in 
making  preparations  for  setting  forth  on  the  morrow, 
and  when,  at  gray  dawn,  Dick  and  Crusoe  lay  down  to 
snatch  a  few  hours'  repose,  the  yells  and  bowlings  in  the 
Snake  camp  were  going  on  as  vigorously  as  ever. 

Thv.  sun  had  arisen,  and  his  beams  were  just  tipping 
the   summits   of  the   Rocky  Mountains,  causing  the 


li    : 


> 


h 


844 


"sweet  home." 


snowy  peaks  to  glitter  like  flame,  and  the  deep  ravines 
and  gorges  to  look  sombre  and  mysterious  by  contrast, 
when  Dick,  and  Joe,  and  Henri  mounted  their  gallant 
steeds,  and,  with  Crusoe  gambolling  before,  and  the  two 
pack-horses  trotting  by  their  side,  turned  their  faces 
eastward,  and  bade  adieu  to  the  Indian  camp. 

Crusoe  was  in  great  spirits.  He  was  perfectly  well 
aware  that  he  and  his  companions  were  on  their  way 
home,  and  testified  his  satisfaction  by  bursts  of  scamper- 
ing over  the  hills  tind  valleys.  Doubtless  he  thought 
of  Dick  Varley's  cottage,  and  of  Dick's  mild,  kind- 
hearted  mother.  Undoubtedly,  too,  he  thought  of  his 
own  mother.  Fan,  and  felt  a  glow  of  filial  affection  as 
he  did  so.  Of  this  we  feel  quite  certain.  He  would 
have  been  unworthy  the  title  of  hero  if  he  hadn't. 
Perchance  he  thought  of  Grumps,  but  of  this  we  are 
not  quite  so  sure.  We  rather  think,  upon  the  whole, 
that  he  did. 

Dick,  too,  let  his  thoughts  run  away  in  the  direction 
of  home.  Sweet  word !  Those  who  have  never  left  it 
cannot,  by  any  effort  of  imagination,  realize  the  full  im- 
port of  the  word  "  home."  Dick  was  a  bold  hunter,  but 
he  was  young,  and  this  was  his  first  long  expedition. 
Oftentimes,  when  sleeping  under  the  trees  and  gazing 
dreamily  up  through  the  branches  at  the  stars,  had  he 
thought  of  home,  until  his  longing  heart  began  to  yearn 
to  return.     He  repelled  such  tender  feelings,  however, 


DICK   HOME-SICK. 


845 


when  they  became  too  strong,  deeming  them  unmanly, 
and  sought  to  turn  his  mind  to  the  excitements  of  the 
chase,  but  latterly  his  eiforts  were  in  vain.  He  became 
thoroughly  home-sick,  and*,  while  admitting  the  fact  to 
himself,  he  endeavored  to  conceal  it  from  his  comrades. 
Ho  thought  that  he  was  successful  in  this  attempt. 
Poor  Dick  Varley !  as  yet  he  was  sadly  ignorant  of 
human  nature.  Henri  knew  it,  and  Joe  Blunt  knew  it. 
Even  Crusoe  knew  that  something  was  wrong  with  his 
master,  although  he  could  not  exactly  make  out  what  it 
was.  But  Crusoe  made  memoranda  in  the  note-book 
of  his  memory.  He  jotted  down  the  peculiar  phases  of 
his  master's  new  disease  with  the  care  and  minute  ex- 
actness of  a  physician  ;  and,  we  doubt  not,  ultimately 
added  the  knowledge  of  the  symptoms  of  home-sickness 
to  his  "'-eady  well-filicd  stores  of  erudition. 

It  was  not  till  they  had  set  out  on  their  homeward 
journey  that  Dick  Varley's  spirits  revived,  and  it  was 
not  till  they  reached  the  beautiful  prairies  on  the  east- 
ern slopes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  galloped  over 
the  green  sward  towards  the  Mustang  Valley,  that  Dick 
ventured  to  tell  Joe  Blunt  what  his  feelings  had  been. 

"  D'ye  know,  Joe,"  he  said  confidentially,  reining  up 
his  gallant  steed  after  a  sharp  gallop,  "  d'ye  know  I've 
bin  feelin*  awful  low  for  some  time  past." 

"  I  know  it,  lad,"  answered  Joe,  with  a  quiet  smile,  in 


Ml 


84C 


HENRI   METAPHTSICAL. 


which  there  was  a  dash  of  something  that  implied  he 
knew  more  than  he  chose  to  express. 

Dick  felt  surprised,  but  he  continued,  "  I  wonder  what 
it  could  have  bin.     I  never  felt  so  before." 

"  'Twas  home- sickness,  boy,"  returned  Joe. 

"  How  d'ye  know  that  ?  " 

"  The  same  way  as  how  I  know  most  things,  by  ex- 
perience an'  observation.  I've  bin  home-sick  myself 
once  —  but  it  was  long,  long  agone." 

Dick  felt  much  relieved  at  this  candid  confession  by 
such  a  bronzed  veteran,  and,  the  cords  of  sympathy 
having  been  struck,  he  opened  up  his  heart  at  once,  to 
the  evident  delight  of  Henri,  who,  among  other  curious 
partialities,  was  extremely  fond  of  listening  to  and  taking 
part  in  conversations  thai  borderv^d  on  the  metaphysical, 
and  were  hard  to  be  understood.  Most  conversations 
that  were  not  connected  with  eating  and  hunting  were 
of  this  nature  to  Henri. 

"  Hora'-sik,"  he  cried,  "  veech  mean  bein'  sik  of  hom' ! 
hah  !  dat  is  fat  I  am  always  be,  ven  I  goes  hout  on  de 
expedition.     Oui,  vraiment." 

"  I  always  packs  up,"  continued  Joe,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  Henri's  remark,  —  "I  always  packs  up  an*  sot's 
off  for  home  when  I  gits  home-sick ;  it's  the  best  cure, 
an'  when  hunters  are  young  like  you,  Dick,  it's  the 
only  cure.     I've  know'd  fellers  a'most  die  o'  home-sick- 


HOME-SICKNESS. 


347 


ness,  an'  I'm  told  they  do  go  under  altogether  some- 
times." 

"  Go  onder ! "  exclaimed  Henri ;  "  oui,  I  vas  all  but 
die  myself  ven  I  f ubt  try  to  git  away  from  hom'.  If  I 
have  not  git  away,  I  not  be  here  to-day." 

Henri's  idea  of  home-sickness  vas  so  totally  opposed 
to  theirs,  that  his  comrades  only  laughed,  and  refrained 
from  attempting  to  set  him  right. 

"  The  fust  time  I  wos  took  bad  with  it  wos  in  a  coun- 
try somethin'  like  that,"  said  Joe,  pointing  to  the  wide 
stretch  of  undulating  prairie,  dotted  with  clusters  jf 
trees  and  wandering  streamlets,  that  lay  before  them ; 
"  I  had  bin  out  about  two  months,  an'  wos  makin'  a  good 
thing  of  it,  for  game  was  plenty,  when  I  began  to  think 
somehow  more  than  usual  o'  home.  My  mother  wos 
alive  then." 

Joe's  voice  sank  to  a  deep,  solemn  tone  as  he  said  this, 
and  for  a  few  minute^  he  rode  on  in  silence. 

"  Well,  it  grew  worse  and  worse,  I  dreamed  o'  home 
all  night,  an'  thought  of  it  all  day,  till  I  began  to  shoot 
bad,  an'  my  comrades  wos  gittin'  tired  o'  me ;  so  says  I 
to  them  one  night,  says  I, '  I  give  out,  lads,  I'll  make 
tracks  for  the  settlement  to-morrow.'  They  tried  to 
laugh  me  out  of  it  at  first,  but  it  was  no  go,  so  I  packed 
up,  bid  them  good-day,  an'  sot  oflf  alone  on  a  trip  o'  five 
hundred  miles.  The  very  first  mile  o'  the  way  back  I  be- 
gan to  mend,  and  before  two  days  I  wos  all  right  again." 


m 


348 


BLACKFEET   INDIANS. 


■  mi:! 


Joe  was  interrupted  at  this  point  by  the  sudden  ap- 
pearance of  a  solitary  horseman  on  the  brow  o*'  an  emi- 
nence not  half  a  mile  distant.  The  three  friends  instantly 
drove  their  pack-horses  behind  a  clump  of  trees,  but  not 
in  time  to  escape  the  vigilant  eye  of  the  Red-man,  who 
uttered  a  loud  shout,  which  brought  up  a  band  of  his 
comrades  at  full  gallop. 

*■  Remember,  Henri,"  cried  Joe  Blunt,  "  our  errand  is 
one  c^ peace." 

The  caution  was  needed,  for  in  the  confusion  of  the 
moment  Henri  was  making  preparation  to  sell  his  life 
as  dearly  as  possible.  Before  another  word  could  be 
uttered,  they  were  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  about 
twenty  yelling  Blackfeet  Indians.  They  were,  fortu- 
nately, not  a  war-party,  and,  still  more  fortunately,  they 
were  peaceably  disposed,  and  listened  to  the  preliminary 
address  of  Joe  Blunt  with  exemplary  patience;  after 
which  the  two  parties  encamped  on  the  spot,  the  coun- 
cil-fire was  lighted,  and  every  preparation  was  made  for 
a  long  palaver. 

We  will  not  trouble  our  reader  with  the  details  of 
wbai  was  said  on  this  occasion.  The  party  of  Indians 
was  a  small  one,  and  no  chief  of  any  importance  was 
attached  to  it.  Suffice  it  to  ^ly  that  the  pacific  over- 
tures made  by  Joe  were  well  received,  the  trifling  gifts 
made  thereafter  were  still  better  received,  and  they 
separated  with  mutual  expressions  of  good  will. 


If 


BLACKFEET   INDIANS. 


349 


Several  other  bands  which  were  afterwards  met  with 
were  equally  friendly,  and  only  one  war-party  was  seen. 
Joe's  quick  eye  observed  it  in  time  to  enable  them  to 
retire  unseen  behind  the  shelter  of  some  trees,  where 
tbey  remained  until  the  Indian  warriors  were  out  of 
sight. 

The  next  party  they  met  with,  however,  were  more 
difficult  to  manage,  and,  unfortunately,  blood  was  shed 
on  both  sides  before  our  travellers  escaped. 

It  was  at  the  clopf-  of  a  beautiful  day  that  a  war- 
party  of  Blackfeet  were  seen  riding  along  a  ridge  on  the 
horizon.  It  chanced  that  the  prairie  at  this  place  was 
almost  destitute  of  trees  or  shrubs  krge  enough  to  con- 
ceal the  horses.  By  dasliing  down  the  grassy  wave 
into  the  hollow  between  the  two  undulations,  and  dis- 
mounting, Joe  hoped  to  elude  the  savages,  so  he  gave 
the  word,  —  but  at  the  same  moment  a  shout  from  the 
Indians  told  that  they  were  discovered. 

"  Look  sharp,  lads,  throw  down  the  packs  on  the 
highest  point  of  the  ridge,"  cried  Joe,  undoing  the  lash- 
ings, seizing  one  of  the  bales  of  goods,  and  hurrying  to 
the  top  of  the  undulation  with  it ;  "  we  must  keep  them 
at  arm's  length,  boys  —  be  alive.  War-parties  are  not 
to  be  trusted." 

Dick  and  Henri  seconded  Joe's  efforts  so  ably,  that 
in  the  course  of  two  minutes  the  horses  were  unloaded, 
the  packs  piled  in  the  form  of  a  wall  in  front  of  a 

30 


350 


ATTACKED    BY   INDIANS. 


broken  piece  of  ground,  the  horses  picketed  close  beside 
them,  and  our  three  travellers  peeping  over  the  edge, 
with  their  rifles  cocked,  while  the  savages  —  abort  thirty 
in  number  —  came  sweeping  down  towards  them. 

*'  I'll  try  to  git  them  to  palaver,"  said  Joe  Blunt,  "but 
keep  yer  eye  on  'em,  Dick,  an'  if  they  behave  ill,  shoot 
the  horse  o'  the  leadin'  chief.  I'll  throw  up  my  left 
hand  as  a  signal.  Mind,  lad,  don't  hit  human  flesh  till 
my  second  signal  is  given,  and  see  that  Henri  don't  draw 
till  I  get  back  to  ye." 

So  saying,  Joe  sprang  lightly  over  the  slight  panpet 
of  their  little  fortress,  and  ran  swiftly  out,  unarmed, 
towards  the  Indians.  In  a  few  seconds  he  was  close 
up  with  them,  and  in  another  moment  was  surrounded. 
At  first  the  savages  brandished  their  spears  and  rode 
round  the  solitary  man,  yelling  like  fiends,  as  if  they 
wished  to  intimidate  him;  but  as  Joe  stood  like  a 
statue,  with  his  arms  crossed,  and  a  grave  expression  of 
contempt  on  his  countenance,  they  quickly  desisted,  and, 
drawing  near,  asked  him  where  he  came  from,  and  what 
he  was  doing  here. 

Joe's  story  was  soon  told ;  but  instead  of  replying, 
they  began  to  shout  vociferously,  and  evidently  meant 
mischief. 

"  If  the  Black  feet  are  afraid  to  speak  to  the  Pale-face, 
he  will  go  back  to  his  braves,"  said  Joe,  pausing  sud- 
denly between  two  of  the  warriors  and  taking  a  few  steps 
towards  the  camp. 


THE   INDIANS    PUT   TO   FLIGHT. 


351 


Instantly  every  bow  was  bent,  and  it  seemed  as  if  our 
bold  hunter  was  about  to  be  pierced  by  a  hundred  ar- 
rows, when  he  turned  round,  and  cried  — 

"  The  Blackfeet  must  not  advance  a  single  step.  The 
fii-st  that  moves  his  horst  shall  die.  The  second  that 
moves  himself  &\va\\.  die." 

To  this  the  Blackfoot  chief  replied  scornfully,  "  The 
Pale-face  talks  with  a  big  mouth.  We  do  not  believe 
his  words.  The  Snakes  arc  liars,  we  will  make  no  peace 
with  them." 

"While  he  was  yet  speaking,  Joe  threw  up  his  hand ; 
there  was  a  loud  report,  and  the  noble  horse  of  the 
savage  chief  lay  struggling  in  death  agony  on  the 
ground. 

The  use  of  the  rifle,  as  we  have  before  hinted,  was 
little  known  at  this  period  among  the  Indians  of  the 
far-v/est,  and  many  had  never  heard  the  dreaded  report 
before,  although  all  were  aware,  from  hearsay,  of  its 
fatal  power.  The  fall  of  the  chief's  horse,  therefore, 
quite  paralyzed  them  for  a  few  moments,  and  they  had 
not  recovered  from  their  surprise,  when  a  second  report 
was  heard,  a  bullet  whistled  past,  and  a  second  horse 
fell.  At  the  same  moment  there  was  a  loud  explosion 
in  the  camp  of  the  Pale-faces,  a  white  cloud  enveloped 
it,  and  from  the  midst  of  this  a  loud  shriek  was  heard, 
as  Dick,  Henri,  and  Crusoe  bounded  over  the  packs  with 
frantic  gestures. 


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352 


HENRI  BLOWN   UP. 


At  Ihir,  the  gaping  savages  wheeled  their  steeds 
roind,  the  dismounted  horsemen  sprang  on  behind  two 
of  their  comrades,  and  the  whole  band  dashed  away 
over  the  plains  as  if  they  were  chased  by  evil  spirits. 

Meanwhile  Joe  hastened  towards  his  comrades  in  a 
state  of  great  anxiety,  for  he  knew  at  once  that  one 
of  the  powder-horns  muct  have  been  accidentally  blown 
up. 

"No damage  done,  boys,  T  hope?"  he  cried  on  com- 
ing up. 

"  Damage ! "  cried  Henri,  holding  his  hands  tight  over 
his  face.  "  Oh !  oui,  great  damage  —  moche  damage  me 
two  eyes  be  bio  wed  out  of  dere  holes." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  I  hope,"  said  Dick,  w^o 
was  very  slightly  singed,  and  forgot  his  own  hurts  in 
anxiety  about  his  comrade.     "  Let  Kie  see  ?  " 

"  My  eye ! "  exclaimed  Joe  Blunt,  vhi^e  a  broad  grin 
overspread  his  countenance,  "  ye've  not  improved  yer 
looks,  Henri." 

This  was  true.  The  worthy  hunter's  hair  was  sirged 
to  such  an  extent  that  his  entire  countenance  presented 
the  appearance  of  a  universal  frizzle.  Fortunately  the 
skin,  although  much  blackened,  was  quite  uninjured,  a 
fact  which,  when  he  as  ',ertained  it  beyond  a  doubt, 
afforded  so  much  satisfaction  to  Henri,  that  he  capered 
about  shouting  with  delight,  as  if  some  piece  of  good  for- 
tune had  befallen  him. 


"% 


HENRI   BLOWN   UP. 


853 


who 


The  accident  had  happened  in  consequence  of  Henri 
having  omitted  to  replace  the  stopper  of  his  powder- 
horn,  and  when,  in  his  anxiety  for  Joe,  he  fired  at  ran- 
dom amongst  the  Indians,  despite  Dick's  entreaties  to 
wait,  a  spark  communicated  with  the  powder-horn  and 
blew  him  up.  Dick  and  Crusoe  were  only  a  little 
singed,  but  the  former  was  not  disposed  to  quarrel  with 
an  accident  which  had  sent  their  enemies  so  promptly 
to  the  right-about. 

This  band  followed  them  for  some  nights,  in  the  hope 
of  being  able  to  steal  their  horses  while  they  slept ;  but 
they  were  not  brave  enough  to  venture  a  second  time 
withia  range  of  the  death-dealing  rifle. 

30* 


11^4  i 


.'    i 


! 


854 


THE    CAMANCHE   INDIAM8. 


CHAPTEli  XXV. 

Dangers  of  the  Pra:ri« —  Our  Travellers  attacked  by  Indians,  and 
delivered  in  a  remarkable  Manner. 

There  are  periods  in  the  life  of  almost  all  men  when 
misfortunes  seem  to  crowd  upon  them  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, when  they  escape  from  one  danger  only  to  encoun- 
ter another,  and  when,  to  use  a  well-known  expression, 
they  succeed  in  leaping  out  of  the  frying-pan  at  the  ex- 
pense of  plunging  into  the  fire. 

So  was  it  with  our  three  friends  upon  this  occa- 
sion. They  were  scarcely  rid  of  the  Blackfeet,  who 
found  them  too  watchful  to  be  caught  napping,  when, 
about  daybreak  one  morning,  they  encountered  a  rov- 
ing band  of  Camanchee  Indians,  who  wore  such  a  war- 
like aspect  that  Joe  deemed  it  prudent  to  avoid  them  if 
possible. 

"  They  don't  see  us  yit,  I  guess,"  said  Joe,  as  he  and 
his  companions  drove  the  horses  into  a  hollow  between 
the  grassy  waves  of  the  prairie,  "  an'  if  we  only  can  es- 
cape their  sharp  eyes  till  we're  in  yonder  clump  o*  wil- 
lows, we're  safe  enough." 

"  But  why  don't  you  ride  up  to  them,  Joe,"  inquired 


Mil! 


'f] 


DANGERS   OP  THE   PRAIRIE. 


355 


Dick,  "and  make  peace  between  them  and  the  Pale- 
faces, as  you  ha'  done  with  other  bands  ?  " 

"Because  it's  o'  no  use  to  risk  our  scalps  for  the 
chance  o'  makin'  peace  wi'  a  rovin*  war-party.  Keep 
your  head  down,  Henri !  If  they  git  only  a  sight  o*  the 
top  o'  yer  cap,  they'll  be  down  on  us  like  a  breeze  o* 
wind." 

"  Hah !  let  dem  come ! "  said  Henri. 

"They'll  come  without  askin'  yer  leave,"  remarked 
Joe,  drily. 

Notwithstanding  his  defiant  expression,  Henri  had 
suflScient  prudence  to  induce  him  to  bend  his  head  and 
shoulders,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  reached  the  shel- 
ter of  the  willows  unseen  by  the  savages.  At  least  so 
thought  Henri,  Joe  was  not  quite  sure  about  it,  and 
Dick  hoped  for  the  best. 

In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  the  last  of  the  Caman- 
chees  was  seen  to  hover  for  a  second  on  the  horizon, 
like  a  speck  of  black  against  the  sky,  and  then  to  disap- 
peax*. 

Immediately  the  three  hunters  vaulted  on  their  steeds 
and  resumed  their  journey;  but  before  that  evening 
closed,  they  had  sad  evidence  of  the  savage  nature  of 
the  band  from  which  they  had  escaped.  On  passing 
the  brow  of  a  slight  eminence,  Dick,  who  rode  first,  ob- 
served that  Crusoe  stopped  and  snuffed  the  breeze  in 
an  anxious,  inquiring  manner. 


ij\'i 


i 


1)  > 


,jj 


856 


THE  MURDERED  MEN. 


"  What  is't,  pup  ?  "  said  Dick,  drawing  up,  for  he 
knew  that  his  faithful  dog  never  gave  a  false  alarm. 

Crusoe  replied  by  a  short,  uncertain  bark,  and  then 
bounding  forward,  disappeared  behind  a  little  wooded 
knoll.  In  another  moment  a  long,  dismal  howl  floated 
over  the  plains.  There  was  a  mysterj  about  the  dog's 
conduct  which,  coupled  with  his  melancholy  cry,  struck 
the  travellers  with  a  superstitious  feeling  of  dread,  as 
they  sat  looking  at  each  other  in  surprise. 

"  Come,  let's  clear  it  up,"  cried  Joe  Blunt,  shaking 
the  reins  of  his  steed,  and  galloping  forward.  A  few 
strides  brought  them  to  the  other  side  of  the  knoll, 
where,  scattered  upon  the  torn  and  bloody  turf,  they 
discovered  the  scalped  and  mangled  remains  of  about 
twenty  or  thirty  human  beings.  Their  skulls  had  been 
cleft  by  the  tomahawk,  and  their  breasts  pierced  by  the 
scalping-knife ;  and  from  the  position  in  which  many 
of  them  lay,  it  was  evident  that  they  bad  been  slain 
while  asleep. 

Joe's  brow  flushed,  and  his  lips  became  tightly  com- 
pressed, as  he  muttered  between  his  set  teeth, ''  Their 
skins  are  white." 

A  short  examination  sufficed  to  show  that  the  men 
who  had  thus  been  barbarously  murdered  while  they 
slept  had  been  a  band  of  trappers,  or  hunters ;  but  what 
their  errand  had  been,  or  whence  they  came,  they  could 
not  discover. 


THE   MURDERED   MEN. 


857 


Every  thing  of  value  had  been  carried  off,  and  all  the 
scalps  had  been  taken.  Most  of  the  bodies,  although 
much  mutilated,  lay  in  a  posture  that  led  our  hunters 
to  believe  they  had  been  killed  while  asleep ;  but  one 
or  two  were  cut  almost  to  pieces,  and  from  the  blood- 
bespattered  and  trampled  sward  around,  it  seemed  as  if 
they  had  struggled  long  and  fiercely  for  life.  Whether 
or  not  any  of  the  savages  had  been  slain,  it  was  im- 
possible to  tell,  for  if  such  had  been  the  case,  their 
comrades,  doubtless,  had  carried  away  their  bodies. 
That  they  had  been  slaughtered  by  the  party  of  Ca- 
manchees  who  had  been  seen  at  daybreak,  was  quite 
clear  to  Joe ;  but  his  burning  desire  to  revenge  the  death 
of  the  white  men  had  to  be  stifled,  as  his  party  was  so 
small. 

Long  afterwards  it  was  discovered  that  this  was  a 
band  of  trappers  who,  like  those  mentioned  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  volume,  had  set  out  to  avenge  the  death  of 
a  comrade ;  but  God,  who  has  retained  the  right  of  ven- 
geance in  his  own  hand,  saw  fit  to  frustrate  their  pur- 
pose, by  giving  them  into  the  hands  of  the  savages  whom 
they  had  set  forth  to  slay. 

As  it  was  impossible  to  bury  so  many  bodies,  the 
travellers  resumed  their  journey,  and  left  them  to  bleach 
there  in  the  wilderness ;  but  they  rode  the  whole  of  that 
day  almost  without  uttering  a  word.  Meanwhile  the 
CamandieciJ,  who  had  observed  the  trio,  and  had  rid- 


858 


STRANGE  HORSEMEN. 


den  away  at  first  for  the  purpose  of  deceiving  them  into 
the  belief  that  they  had  passed  unobserved,  doubled  on 
their  track,  and  took  a  long  sweep  in  order  to  keep  out 
of  sight  until  they  could  approach  under  the  shelter  of 
a  belt  of  woodland  towards  which  the  travellers  now 
approached. 

The  Indians  adopted  this  course  instead  of  the  easier 
method  of  simply  pursuing  so  weak  a  party,  because 
the  plains  at  this  part  were  bordered  by  a  long  stretch 
of  forest  into  which  the  hunters  could  have  plunged, 
and  rendered  pursuit  more  diflficult,  if  not  almost  use- 
less. The  detour  thus  taken  was  so  extensive  that  the 
shades  of  evening  were  beginning  to  descend  before  they 
could  put  their  plan  into  execution.  The  forest  lay 
about  a  mile  to  the  right  of  our  hunters,  like  some  dark 
mainland,  of  which  the  prairie  was  the  sea,  and  the 
scattered  clumps  of  wood  the  islands. 

"  There's  no  lack  o'  game  here,"  said  Dick  Varley, 
pointing  to  a  herd  of  buffaloes  which  rose  at  their  ap- 
proach, and  fled  away  towards  the  wood. 

"  I  think  we'll  ha'  thunder  soon,"  remarked  Joe.  "  I 
never  feel  it  onnatteral  hot  like  this  without  lookin'  out 
for  a  plump." 

"  Hah !  den  ve'  better  look  hout  for  one  goot  tree  to 
get  b'low,"  suggested  Henri.  "  Voila ! "  he  added,  point- 
ing with  his  finger  towards  the  plain ;  "  Dere  am  r-  lot 
of  wild  bosses." 


THE    CAMANCHEE9. 


859 


c".   lot 


A  troop  of  about  thirty  wild  horses  appeared,  as  he 
spoke,  on  the  brow  of  a  ridge,  and  advanced  slov/ly  to- 
wards them. 

"  Hist !  "  exclaimed  Joe,  reining  up ;  "  hold  on,  lads. 
Wild  houses !  my  rifle  to  a  pop-gun  there's  wilder  men 
on  t'other  side  o'  them." 

"  What  mean  you,  Joe  ?  "  inquired  Dick,  riaing  closo 
up. 

"  D'ye  see  the  little  lumps  on  the  shoulder  o*  each 
horse?"  said  Joe.  "Them's  Injun's  feet;  an'  if  we 
don't  want  to  lose  our  scalps  we'd  better  make  for  the 
forest." 

Joe  proved  himself  to  be  in  earnest  by  wheeling  round 
and  making  straight  for  the  thick  woods  as  fast  as  his 
horse  could  run.  The  others  followed,  driving  the  pack- 
horses  before  them. 

The  effect  of  this  sudden  movement  on  the  so-called 
"wild  horses"  was  very  remarkable,  and  to  one  un- 
acquainted with  the  habits  of  the  Camanchee  Indians, 
must  have  appeared  almost  supernatural.  In  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  every  steed  had  a  rider  on  its  back,  and 
before  the  hunters  had  taken  five  strides  in  the  direction 
of  the  forest,  the  whole  band  were  in  hot  pursuit,  yelling 
like  furies. 

The  manner  in  which  these  Indians  accomplish  this 
feat  is  very  singular,  and  implies  great  activity  and 
strength  of  muscle  on  the  part  of  the  savages. 


A 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


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N>^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


"^^ 


%  ids 


860 


CAMANCHEE  HORSEMANSHIP. 


■     1 


■  1 


r'.r 


The  Camanchees  are  low  in  stature,  and  usually  are 
rather  corpulent.  In  their  movements  on  foot  they  are 
heavy  and  ungraceful ;  and  they  are,  on  the  whole,  a 
slovenly  and  unattractive  race  of  men.  But  the  instant 
they  mount  their  horses  they  seem  to  be  entirely 
changed,  and  surprise  the  spectator  with  the  ease  and 
elegance  of  their  movements.  Their  great  and  dis- 
tinctive pecaliarity  as  horsemen  is  the  power  they  have 
acquired  of  throwing  themselves  suddenly  on  either 
side  of  their  horse's  body,  and  clinging  on  in  such  a 
way  that  no  part  of  them  is  visible  from  the  other  side 
save  the  foot  by  which  they  cling.  In  this  luanner 
they  approach  their  enemies  at  full  gallop,  and  without 
rising  again  to  the  saddle,  discharge  their  arrows  at 
them  over  the  horses*  backs,  or  even  under  their  necks. 

This  apparently  magical  feat  is  accomplished  by  means 
of  a  halter  of  horse-hair,  which  is  passed  roimd  under 
the  neck  of  the  horse,  and  both  ends  braided  into  the 
mane,  on  the  withers,  thus  forming  a  loop  which  hangs 
under  the  neck  and  against  the  breast.  This  being 
caught  by  the  hand,  makes  a  sling,  into  which  the  el- 
bow falls,  taking  the  weight  of  the  body  on  the  middle 
of  the  upper  arm.  Into  this  loop  the  rider  drops  sud- 
denly and  fearlessly,  leaving  his  heel  to  hang  over  the 
horse's  back,  to  steady  him,  and  also  to  restore  him  to 
his  seat  when  desired. 

By  this  stratagem  the  Indians  had  approached  on 


THE    PURSUIT. 


361 


on 


the  j>reserit  occasion  almost  within  rifle  range  before 
they  were  discovered,  and  it  required  the  utmost  speed 
of  the  hunters'  horses  to  enable  them  to  avoid  being 
overtaken.  One  of  the  Indians,  who  was  better  mounted 
than  his  fellows,  gained  on  the  fugitives  so  much  that 
he  came  within  arrow  range,  but  reserved  his  shaft 
until  they  were  close  on  the  margin  of  the  wood,  when, 
being  almost  alongside  of  Henri,  he  fitted  an  arrow  to 
his  bow.  Henri's  eye  was  upon  him,  however ;  letting 
go  the  line  of  the  pack-horse  which  he  was  leading,  he 
threw  forward  his  rifle,  but  at  the  same  moment  the  sav- 
age disappeared  behind  his  horse,  and  an  arrow  wliizzed 
past  the  hunter's  ear. 

Henri  fired  at  the  horse,  which  dropped  instantly, 
hurling  the  astonished  Camanchee  upon  the  ground, 
where  he  lay  for  some  time  insensible.  In  a  few 
seconds  pursued  and  pursuers  entered  the  wood,  where 
both  had  to  advince  with  caution,  in  order  to  avoid 
being  swept  off"  by  the  overhanging  branches  of  the 
trees. 

Meanwhile  the  sultry  heat  of  which  Joe  had  formerly 
spoken  increased  considerably,  and  a  rumbling  noise, 
as  if  of  distant  thunder,  was  heard ;  but  the  flying  hun- 
ters paid  no  attention  i^  it,  for  the  led  horses  gave  them 
so  much  trouble,  and  retarded  their  flight  so  much,  that 
the  Indians  were  gradually  and  visibly  gaining  on 
them. 

31 


862 


THE   PURSUIT. 


"  We'll  ha*  to  let  the  packs  go,"  said  Joe,  somewhat 
bitterly,  as  he  looke^l  over  his  shoulder.  "  Our  scalps  *11 
payfor'tifwedonV 

Henri  uttered  a  peculiar  and  significant  hiss  between 
his  teeth,  as  he  said,  "  P'raps  ve  better  stop  and  fight ! " 
Dick  said  nothing,  being  resolved  to  do  exactly  what 
Joe  Blunt  bid  him ;  and  Crusoe,  for  reasons  best  known 
to  himself,  also  said  nothing,  but  bounded  along  beside 
his  master's  hoi*se,  casting  an  occasional  glance  upwards 
to  catch  any  signal  that  might  be  given. 

They  had  passed  over  considerable  space  of  ground, 
and  were  forcing  their  way  at  the  imminent  hazard  of 
their  necks,  through  a  densely-clothed  part  of  the  wood, 
when  the  sound  above  referred  to  increased,  attracting 
the  attention  of  both  parties.  In  a  few  seconds  the  air 
was  filled  with  a  steady  and  continuous  rumbling  sound, 
like  the  noise  of  a  distant  cataract.  Pursuers  and  fugi- 
tives drew  rein  instinctively,  and  came  to  a  dead  stand, 
while  the  rumbling  increased  to  a  roar,  and  evidently 
approached  them  rapidly,  though  as  yet,  nothing  to  cause 
it  could  be  seen,  except  that  there  was  a  dense,  dark 
cloud  ovei'spreadint,  the  sky  to  the  southward.  The  air 
was  oppressively  still  and  hot. 

"  What  can't  be  ?  "  inquired  Dick,  looking  at  Joe,  who 
was  gazing  with  an  expression  of  wonder,  not  unmixed 
with  concern,  at  the  southern  sky. 

"Dun*  no,  boy.     I've  bin  mon  in  the  woods  than  in 


UNEXPECTED   DELIVERANCE. 


363 


the  clearin'  in  my  day,  but  I  niver  heerd  the  likes  o 
that." 

*■'  It  am  like  t*ondre,"  said  Henri ;  "  mais  it  nevair  dt' 
stop." 

This  was  true.  The  sound  was  similar  to  contin 
uous,  uninterrupted  thunder.  On  it  came  with  a  mag 
nificent  roar  that  shook  the  very  earth,  and  revealed 
itself  at  last  in  the  shape  of  a  mighty  whirlwind.  In  a 
moment  the  distant  woods  bent  before  it,  and  fell  like 
grass  before. the  scythe.  It  was  a  whirling  hurricane, 
accompanied  by  a  deluge  of  rain,  such  as  none  of  the 
party  had  ever  before  witnessed.  Steadily,  fiercely, 
irresistibly,  it  bore  down  upon  them,  while  the  crash  of 
falling,  snapping,  and  uprooting  trees  mingled  with  the 
dire  artillery  of  that  sweeping  storm  like  the  musketry 
•  on  a  battle-field. 

"  Follow  me,  lads ! "  shouted  Joe,  turning  his  horse 
and  dashing  at  full  speed  towards  a  rocky  eminence 
that  offered  shelter.  But  shelter  was  not  needed.  The 
storm  was  clearly  defined.  Its  limits  were  as  distinctly 
marked  by  its  Creator  as  if  it  had  been  a  living  intel- 
ligence sent  forth  to  put  a  belt  of  desolation  round  the 
world ;  and,  although  the  edge  of  devastation  was  not 
five  hundred  yards  from  the  rock  behind  which  the  hun- 
ters were  stationed,  only  a  few  drops  of  ice-cold  rain  fell 
upon  them. 

It  passed  directly  between  the  Camanchee  Indians 


ottiKfi 


864 


THE   WHIRLWIND. 


and  their  intended  victims,  4)lacing  between  tbem  a 
barrier  which  it  would  have  taken  days  to  cut  through. 
The  storm  blew  for  an  hour,  then  it  travelled  onward 
in  its  might,  and  was  lost  in  distance.  Whence  it  came 
and  whither  it  went  none  could  tell ;  but,  far  as  the 
eye  could  see  on  either  hand,  an  avenue  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  wide  was  cut  through  the  forest.  It  had  levelled 
every  thing  with  the  dust ;  the  very  grass  was  beaten 
flat ;  the  trees  were  torn,  shivered,  snapped  across,  and 
crushed;  and  the  earth  itself  in  many  places  was 
ploughed  up  and  furrowed  with  deep  scars.  The  chaos 
was  indescribable,  and  it  is  probable  that  centuries  will 
not  quite  obliterate  the  work  of  that  single  hour. 

While  it  lasted,  Joe  and  his  comrades  remained  speech- 
less and  awe-stricken.  When  it  passed,  no  Indians  were 
to  be  seen.  So  our  hunters  /e-mounted  their  steeds,  and, 
with  feelings  of  gratitude  to  God  for  having  delivered 
them  alike  from  savage  foes  and  from  the  destructive 
power  of  the  whirlwind,  resumed  their  journey  towards 
the  Mustang  Valley. 


m 

5, 


THE   WIDOW. 


365 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Anxious  Fears  followed  by  a  joyful  Surprise. 

and  happy  Hearts. 


■  Safe  Home  at  last, 


One  fine  afternoon,  a  few  weeks  afler  the  storm  of 
which  we  have  giveh  an  account  in  the  last  chapter, 
old  Mrs.  Varley  was  seated  beside  her  own  chimney 
corner  in  the  little  cottage  by  the  lake,  gazing  at  the 
glowing  logs  with  the  earnest  expression  of  one  whose 
thoughts  were  far  away.  Her  kind  face  was  paler  than 
usual,  and  her  hands  rested  idly  on  her  knee,  grasping 
the  knitting  wires  to  which  was  attached  a  half-finished 
stocking. 

On  a  stool  near  to  her  sat  young  Marston,  the  lad  to 
whom,  on  the  day  of  the  shooting-match,  Dick  Varley 
had  given  his  old  rifle.  The  boy  had  an  anxious  look 
about  him,  as  he  lifted  his  eyes  from  time  to  time  to  the 
widow's  face. 

"Did  ye  say,  my  boy,  that  they  were  all  killed?" 
inquired  Mrs.  Varley,  awaking  from  her  reverie  with  a 
deep  sigh. 

"  Every  one,"  replied  Marston.     "  Jim  Scraggs,  who 

81* 


:n 


366 


ANXIOUS    FEARS. 


■r 


brought  the  news,  said  they  wos  all  lyin'  dead  with  their 
scalps  off.     They  wos  a  party  o'  white  men." 

Mrs.  Varley  sighed  again,  and  her  face  assumed  an 
expression  of  anxious  pain  as  she  thought  of  her  son 
Dick  being  exposed  to  a  similar  fate.  Mrs.  Varley  was 
not  given  to  nervous  fears ;  but  as  she  listened  to  the 
boy's  recital  of  the  slaughter  of  a  party  of  white  men, 
news  of  which  had  just  reached  the  valley,  her  heart 
sank,  and  she  prayed  inwardly  to  Him  who  is  the  hus- 
band of  the  widow  that  her  dear  one  might  be  protected 
from  the  ruthless  hand  of  the  savage. 

After  a  short  pause,  during  which  young  Marston 
fidgeted  about  and  looked  concerned,  as  if  he  had  some- 
thing to  say  which  he  would  fain  leave  unsaid,  Mrs. 
Varley  continued  — 

"  Was  it  far  off  where  the  bloody  leed  was  done  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  three  weeks  off,  I  believe.  And  Jim  Scraggs 
said  that  he  found  a  knife  that  looked  like  the  one  wot 
belonged  to  —  to  —  "  ihe  la,d  hesitated. 

"  To  whom,  my  boy  ?     AVliy  don't  ye  go  on  ?  " 

"  To  your  son  Dick." 

The  widow's  hands  dropped  by  her  side,  and  she 
would  have  fallen  had  not  Marston  caught  her. 

"  O  mother  dear,  don't  take  on  like  that ! "  he  cried, 
smoothing  down  the  widow's  hair  as  her  head  rested  on 
his  breast. 

For  some  time  Mrs.  Varley  suffered  the  boy  to  fondle 


ANXIOUS    FEARS. 


367 


her  in  silence,  while  her  breast  labored  with  anxious 
dread. 

"  Tell  me  all,"  she  said  at  last,  recovering  a  little. 
"Did  Jim  see  — Dick?" 

"No,"  answered  the  boy.  "He  looked  at  all  the 
bodies,  but  did  not  and  his ;  so  he  sent  me  over  here  to 
tell  ye  that  p'raps  he's  escaped." 

Mrs.  Varley  breathed  more  freely,  and  earnestly 
thanked  God;  but  her  fears  soon  returned  when  she 
thought  of  his  being  a  prisoner,  and  recalled  the  tales 
of  terrible  cruelty  often  related  of  the  savages. 

While  she  was  still  engaged  in  closely  question- 
ing the  lad,  Jim  Scraggs  himself  entered  the  cottage, 
and  endeavored  in  a  gruff  sort  of  way  to  re-assure  the 
widow. 

"  Ye  see,  mistress,"  he  said,  «  Dick  is  a  oncommon 
tough  customer,  an'  if  he  could  only  git  fifty  yards  start, 
there's  not  a  Injun  in  the  West  as  could  git  hold  o'  him 
agin  ;  so  don't  be  takin'  on." 

"But  what  if  he's  bin  taken  prisoner?"  said  the 
widow. 

"Ay,  that's  jest  wet  I've  corned  about.  Ye  see  it's 
not  onlikely  he's  bin  took ;  so  about  thirty  o'  the  lads  o' 
the  valley  are  ready  jest  now  to  start  away  and  give 
the  red  reptiles  chase,  an'  I  come  to  tell  ye ;  so  keep  up 
heart,  mistress." 

With  this  parting  word  of  comfort,  Jim  withdrew, 


f 


868 


THE    RESCUED    PARTY. 


5- 


and  Marston  soon  followed,  leaving  the  widow  to  weep 
and  pray  in  solitude. 

Meanwhile  an  animated  scene  was  going  on  near  the 
block-house.  Here  thirty  of  the  young  hunters  of  the 
Mustang  Valley  were  assembled,  actively  engaged  in 
supplying  themselves  with  powder  and  Ic  \  and  tight- 
ening their  girths,  preparatory  to  setting  ou  in  pursuit 
of  the  Indians  who  had  murdered  the  white  men,  while 
hundreds  of  boys  and  girls,  and  not  a  few  matrons, 
crowded  round  and  listened  to  the  conversation,  and  to 
the  deep  threats  of  vengeance  that  were  uttered  ever 
and  anon  by  the  younger  men. 

Major  Hope,  too,  was  among  them.  The  worthy 
major,  unable  to  restrain  his  roving  propensities,  deter- 
mined to  revisit  the  Mustang  Valley,  and  had  arrived 
only  two  days  before. 

Backwoodsmen's  preparations  are  usually  of  the  short- 
est and  simplest.  In  a  few  minutes  the  cavalcade  was 
ready,  and  away  they  went  towards  the  prairies,  with 
the  bold  major  at  their  head.  But  their  journey  was 
destined  to  come  to  an  abrupt  and  unexpected  close. 
A  couple  of  hours'  gallop  brought  them  to  the  edge  of 
one  of  those  open  plains  which  sometimes  break  up  the 
^■voodland  near  the  verge  of  the  great  prairies.  It 
stretched  out  like  a  green  lake  towards  the  horizon,  on 
which,  just  as  the  band  of  horsemen  reached  it,  the  sun 
was  descending  in  a  blaze  of  glory. 


THE    RESCUE   PARTY. 


369 


1 


With  a  shout  of  enthusiasm,  several  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  party  sprang  forward  into  the  plain  at 
a  gallop ;  but  the  shout  was  mingled  with  one  of  a  dif- 
ferent tone  from  the  older  men. 

"  Hist ! — hallo ! — hold  on,  ye  cat-a-mounts  I  There's 
Injuns  ahead ! " 

The  whole  band  came  to  a  sudden  halt  at  this  cry, 
and  watched  eagerly,  and  for  some  time  in  silence,  the 
motions  of  a  small  party  of  horsemen  who  were  seen 
in  tlie  far  distance,  like  black  specks  on  the  golden  sky. 

"They  come  this  way,  I  think,"  said  Major  Hope, 
after  gazing  steadfastly  at  them  for  some  minu>'es. 

Several  of  the  old  hands  signified  their  assent  to  this 
suggestion  by  a  grunt,  although  to  unaccustomed  eyes 
the  objects  in  question  looked  more  like  crows  than 
horsemen,  and  their  motion  was  for  some  time  scarcely 
perceptible. 

"  I  sees  pack-horses  among  them ,"  cpied  young  Mars- 
,ton  in  an  excited  tone ;  "  an'  there's  three  riders ;  but 
there's  som'thin'  else,  only  wot  it  be  I  can't  tell." 

"  Ye've  sharp  eyes,  younker,"  remarked  one  of  the 
men,  '•  an'  I  do  b'Heve  yer  right." 

Presently  the  horsemen  approached,  and  soon  there 
was  a  brisk  fire  of  guessing  as  to  who  they  could  be. 
It  was  evident  that  the  strangers  observed  the  caval- 
cade of  Avhite  men,  and  regarded  them  as  friends,  for 
they  did  not  check  the  headlong  speed  at  which  they 


M 


Hi 


370 


JOYFUL    SURPRISE. 


'  approached.  In  a  few  minutes  they  were  clearly  made 
out  to  be  a  party  of  three  horsemen  driving  pack-horses 
before  them,  and  somethin'  which  some  of  the  hunters 
guessed  was  a  buffalo  calf. 

Young  Marston  guessed  too,  but  his  guess  was  differ- 
ent. Moreover,  it  was  uttered  with  a  yell  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  the  fiercest  of  all  the  savages. 
«  Crusoe ! "  he  shouted,  while  at  the  same  moment  he 
brought  his  whip  heavily  down  on  the  flank  of  his  little^ 
horse,  and  sprang  over  the  prairie  like  an  arrow. 

One  of  the  approaching  horsemen  was  far  ahead  of 
his  comrades,  and  seemed  as  if  encircled  with  the  flying 
and  voluminous  mane  of  his  magnificent  horse. 

"  Hah  !  ho !  "  gasped  Marston  in  a  low  tone  to  him- 
self, as  he  flew  along.  «  Crusoe !  I'd  know  ye,  dog, 
among  a  thousand !  A  buffalo  calf!  Ha !  git  on  wi^h 
ye!" 

This  last  part  of  the  remark  was  addressed  to  his 
horse,  and  was  followed  uy  a  whack  that  increased  the 
pace  considerably. 

The  space  between  two  such  riders  was  soon  de- 
voured. 

"Hallo!  Dick,  — Dick  Varley!" 

"  Eh !  why,  Marston,  my  boy ! " 

The  friends  reined  up  so  suddenly,  that  one  might 
have  fancied  they  had  met  like  the  knights  of  old  in  the 
shock  of  mortal  conflict. 


SAFE   HOME   AT   LAST. 


871 


« Is't  yerself,  Dick  Varley  ?  » 

Dick  held  out  his  hand,  and  his  eyes  glistened,  but, 
he  could  not  And  worda. 

Marston  seized  it,  and,  pushing  his  horse  clo%e  up, 
vaulted  nimbly  off  and  alighted  on  Charlie's  back  behind 
his  friend. 

"  Off  ye  go,  Dick  !     I'll  take  ye  to  yer  mother." 
Without  reply,  Dick  shook  the  reins,  and  in  another 
minute  was  in  the  midst  of  the  hunters. 

To  the  numberless  questions  that  were  put  to  him  he 
only  waited  to  shout  aloud,  "  We're  all  safe !  They'll 
tell  ye  all  about  it,".he  added,  pointing  to  his  comrades, 
who  were  now  close  at  hand  ;  and  then,  dashing  onward, 
made  straight  for  home,  with  little  Marston  clinging  to 
his  waist  like  a  monkey. 

Charlie  was  fresh,  and  so  was  Crusoe ;  so  you  may 
be  sure  it  was  not  long  before  they  all  drew  up  oppo- 
site the  door  of  the  widow's  cottage.  Before  Dick  could 
dismount,  Marston  had  slipped  off,  and  was  already  in 
the  kitchen. 

"  Here's  Dick,  mother  ! " 

The  boy  was  an  orphan,  and  loved  the  widow  so  much 
that  he  had  come  at  last  to  call  her  mother. 

Before  another  word  could  be  uttered,  Dick  Varley 
was  in  the  room.  Marston  immediately  stepped  out, 
and  softly  shut  the  door.  Reader,  we  shall  not  open 
it! 


ma 


I*; 


372 


HAPPY   HEARTS. 


*      i. 


f   ) 

1  [  '' 

: 

i 

■ 

s 

! 

;       i 

H 

.1 

ilM 

r 

1 

« 

Having  shut  the  door,  as  we  have  said,  Marston 
ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  and  yelled  with  de- 
light—  usually  terminating  each  paroxysm  with  the 
Indian  war-whoop,  with  which  he  was  well  acquainted. 
Then  he  danced,  and  then  he  sat  down  on  a  rock,  and 
became  suddenly  aware  that  there  were  other  hearts 
there,  close  beside  him,  as  glad  as  his  own.  Another 
mother  of  the  Mustang  Valley  was  rejoicing  over  a  long- 
lost  son. 

Crusoe  and  his  mother  Fan  were  scampering  round 
each  other  in  a  manner  that  evinced  powerfully  the 
strength  of  their  mutual  affection. 

Talk  of  holding  converse  I  Every  hair  on  Crusoe's 
body,  every  motion  of  his  limbs,  was  eloquent  with 
silent  language.  He  ga  ;ed  into  his  mother's  mild  eyes 
as  if  he  would  read  her  inmost  soul  (supposing  that  she 
had  one).  He  turned  his  head  to  every  possible  angle, 
and  cocked  his  ears  to  every  conceivable  elevation,  and 
rubbed  his  nose  against  Fan's,  and  barked  softly,  in 
every  imaginable  degree  of  modulation,  and  varied  these 
proceedings  by  bounding  away  at  full  speed  over  the 
rocks  of  the  beach,  and  in  among  the  bushes,  and  out 
again,  but  always  circling  round  and  round  Fan,  and 
keeping  her  in  view ! 

It  was  a  sight  worth  seeing,  and  young  Marston  sat 
down  on  a  rock,  deliberately  and  enthusiastically,  to 
gloat  over  it.     But  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  part  of 


I   i 


#-v 


HAPPTf  HEARTS. 


373 


it  has  not  yet  been  referred  to.  There  was  yet  another 
heart  there  that  was  glad  —  exceeding  glad  that  day. 
It  was  a  little  one,  too,  but  it  was  big  for  the  body  that 
held  it.  Grumps  was  there,  and  all  that  Grumps  did 
was  to  sit  on  his  haunches,  and  stare  at  Fan  and  Crusoe, 
and  wag  his  tail  as  well  as  he  could  in  so  awkward  a 
position !  Grumps  was  evidently  bewildered  with  de- 
light, and  had  lost  nearly  all  power  to  express  it.  Cru- 
soe's conduct  towards  him,  too,  was  not  calculated  to 
clear  his  faculties.  Every  time  he  chanced  to  pass 
near  Grumps  in  his  elephantine  gambols,  he  gave  him 
a  passing  touch  with  his  nose,  which  always  knocked 
him  head  over  heels ;  whereat  Grumps  invariably  got 
up  quickly  and  wagged  his  tail  with  additional  energy. 
Before  the  feelings  of  those  canine  friends  were  calmed, 
they  were  all  three  ruffled  into  a  state  of  comparative 
exhaustion. 

Then  young  Marston  called  Crusoe  to  him,  and  Cru- 
soe, obedient  to  the  voice  of  friendship,  went. 

"  Are  you  happy,  my  dog  ?  " 

"  You're  a  stupid  fellow  to  ask  such  a  question  ; 
however,  it's  an  amiable  one.     Yes,  I  am." 

"  What  do  you  want,  ye  small  bundle  o'  hair  ?  " 

This  was  addressed  to  Grumps,  who  came  forward 
innocently,  and  sat  down  to  listen  to  the  conversation. 

On  being  thus  sternly  questioned,  the  little  dog  put 

down  its  ears  flat,  and  hung  its  head,  looking  up  at  the 

32 


874 


HAPPY   HEARTS. 


same  time  with  a  deprecatory  look  as  if  to  say,  —  «  Oh 
dear !  I  beg  pardon ;  I  -—  I  only  want  to  sit  near  Cru- 
soe, please,  but  ii'  you  wish  it  I'll  go  away,  sad  and 
lonely,  with  my  tail  ver^  much  between  my  legs  --  indeed 
I  will,  only  say  the  word,  but —  but  I'd  rather  stay  if  I 
might." 

"  Poor  bundle  ! "  said  Marston,  patting  its  head,  "  you 
can  stay  then.  Hooray  !  Crusoe,  are  you  happy,  I  say  ? 
Does  your  heart  bound  in  you  like  a  cannon  ball  that 
wants  to  find  its  way  out  and  can't  —  eh  ?  " 

Crusoe  put  his  snout  against  Marston's  cheek,  and, 
in  the  excess  of  his  joy,  the  lad  threw  his  arms  round 
the  dog's  neck,  and  hugged  it  vigorously,  a  piece  of  im- 
pulsive affection  which  that  noble  animal  bore  with  char- 
acteristic meekness,  and  which  Grumps  regarded  with 
idiotic  satisfaction. 


f|       m 


THE   REJOICINGS. 


875 


CHAPTER  XXVIT. 

Rejoicings. -The  Feast  at  the  Block-house. - Grumps  and  Crusoe 
come  out  strong.  —  The  closing  Scene. 

The  day  of  Dick's  arrival  with  his  companions  was 
a  great  day  in  the  annals  of  the  Mustang  Valley,  and 
Major  Hope  resolved  to  celebrate  it  by  an  impromptu 
festival  at  the  old  block-house;  for  many  hearts  in  the 
valley  had  been  made  glad  that  day,  and  he  knew  full 
well  that,  under  such  circumstances,  some  safety  valve 
must  be  devised  for  the  escape  of  overflowing  excite- 
ment. 

A  messenger  was  sent  rt)und  to  invite  the  population 
to  assemble  without  delay  in  front  of  the  block-house. 
With  backwood's-Iike  celerity  the  summons  was  obeyed ; 
men,  women,  and  children  hurried  towards  the  central 
point,  wondering,  yet  more  than  half  suspecting,  what 
was  the  major's  object  in  calling  them  together. 

They  were  not  long  in  doubt.  The  first  sight  that 
presented  itself,  as  they  came  trooping  up  the  slope  in 
front  of  the  log-hut,  was  an  ox  roasting  wliole  before  a 
gigantic  bon-fire.     Tabh-s  wore  being  extemporized  on 


376 


FEAST  AT   THE   BLOCK-HOUSE. 


the  broad  level  plot  in  front  of  the  gate.  Other  fires 
there  were,  of  smaller  dimensions,  on  which  sundry 
steaming  pots  were  placed,  and  various  joints  of  wild 
horse,  bear,  and  venison,  roasted,  and  sent  forth  a  savory 
odor  as  well  as  a  ple?.sant  hissing  noise.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  the  block-house  were  self-taught  brewers,  and 
the  result  of  their  recent  labors  now  stood  displayed  in 
a  row  of  goodly  casks  of  beer  —  the  only  beverage  with 
which  the  dwellers  in  these  far-off  regions  were  wont  to 
regale  themselves. 

The  whole  scene,  —  as  the  cooks  moved  actively 
about  upon  the  lawn,  and  children  romped  round  the 
fires,  and  settlers  came  flocking  through  the  forest  — 
might  have  recalled  the  revelry  of  merry  England  in 
the  olden  time,  though  the  costumes  of  the  far  west 
were,  perhaps,  somewhat  different  from  those  of  old 
England. 

No  one  of  all  the  band  assembled  there  on  that  day 
of  rejoicing  required  to  ask  what  it  was  all  about.  Had 
any  one  been  in  doubt  for  a  moment,  a  glance  at  the 
centre  of  the  crowd  assembled  round  the  gate  of  the 
western  fortress  would  have  quickly  enlightened  him  ; 
for  there  stood  Dick  Varley,  and  his  mild-looking 
mother,  and  his  loving  dog,  Crusoe.  There,  too,  stood 
Joe  Blunt,  like  a  bronzed  warrior  returned  from  the 
fight,  turning  from  one  to  another  as  question  ])oured 
in   upon   question  almost   too  rapidly  to  permit  of  a 


GRUMPS  AND    CRUSOE. 


377 


reply.  There,  too,  stood  Henri,  making  enthusiastic 
speeches  to  whoever  chose  to  listen  to  him,  —  now  glar- 
ing at  the  crowd,  with  clenched  fists  and  growling  voice, 
as  he  told  of  how  Joe  and  he  had  been  tied  hand  and 
foot,  and  lashed  to  poles  and  buried  in  leaves,  and  threat- 
ened with  a  slow  death  by  torture,  —  at  other  times 
bursting  into  a  hilarious  laugh  as  he  held  forth  on  the 
predicament  of  Mahtawa  when  that  wily  chief  was  treed 
by  Crusoe  in  the  prairie. 

Young  Mai'ston  was  there,  too,  hanging  about  Dick, 
whom  he  loved  as  a  brother,  and  regarded  as  a  perfect 
hero.  Grumps,  too,  was  there,  and  Fan.  Do  you 
think,  reader,  that  Grumps  looked  at  pny  one  but  Cru- 
soe ?  If  you  do,  you  are  mistaken.  Grumps  on  that 
day  became  a  regular,  an  incorrigible,  utter,  and  per- 
fect nuisance  to  everybody  —  not  excepting  himself, 
poor  be-T^t!  Grumps  was  a  dog  of  one  idea,  and  that 
idea  was  Crusoe.  Out  of  that  great  idea  there  grew 
one  little  secondary  idea,  and  that  idea  was,  that  the 
only  joy  on  earth  worth  mentioning  was  to  sit  on  his 
haunches,  exactly  six  inches  from  Crusoe's  nose,  and 
gaze  steadfastly  into  his  face.  Wherever  Crusoe  went 
Grumps  went.  If  Crusoe  stopped,  Grumps  was  down 
before  him  in  an  instant.  If  Crusoe  bounded  away, 
which,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  spii'its  he  often  did, 
Grumps  was  after  him  like  a  bundle  of  mad  hair.  He 
was  in  everybody's  way  —  in  Crusoe's  way,  and  being, 

32* 


Bs'te 


378 


GRUMP3  AND    CRUSOE. 


^  !-ti 


i't 


.     4 


.    i 


so  to  speak,  "beside  himself,"  was  also  in  his  own 
way.  If  people  trod  upon  him  accidentally,  which  they 
often  did,  Grumps  uttered  a  solitary  heart-rending  yell, 
proportioned  in  intensity  to  the  excruciating  nature  of 
the  torture  he  endured,  then  instantly  resumed  his  posi- 
tion and  his  fascinated  stare.  Crusoe  generally  held 
his  head  up,  and  gazed  over  his  little  friend  at  what 
was  going  on  around  him,  but  if  for  a  moment  he  per- 
mitted his  eye  to  rest  on  the  countenance  of  Grumps, 
that  creature's  tail  became  suddenly  imbued  with  an 
amount  of  wriggling  vitality  that  seemed  to  threaten  its 
separation  from  the  body. 

It  was  really  quite  interesting  to  watch  this  unblush- 
ing, and  disinterested,  and  utterly  reckless  display  of  af- 
fection on  the  part  of  Grumps,  and  the  amiable  way  in 
which  Crusoe  put  up  with  it  —  we  say  put  up  with  it, 
advisedly,  because  it  must  have  bee.  a  very  great  incon- 
venience to  him,  seeing  that  if  he  attempted  to  move, 
his  satellite  moved  in  front  of  him,  so  that  his  only  way 
of  escaping,  temporarily,  was  by  jumping  over  Grumps's 
head. 

Grumps  was  everywhere  all  day.  Nobody,  almost, 
escaped  trampling  on  part  of  him.  He  tumbled  over 
every  thing,  into  every  thing,  and  against  every  thing. 
He  knocked  himself,  singed  himself,  and  scalded  himse|^ 
and  in  fact  forgot  himself  altogether ;  and  when,  late 
that  night,  Crusoe  went  with  Dick  into  his  mother's  cot- 


{ 


THE   CLOSING    SCENE. 


379 


I 


tage,  and  the  door  was  shut,  Grumps  stretched  his  ruf- 
fled, battered,  ill-used,  and  dishevelled  little  body  down 
on  the  doorstep,  thrust  his  nose  against  the  opening  be- 
low the  door,  and  lay  in  humble  contentment  all  night, 
for  he  knew  that  Crusoe  was  there. 

Of  course  such  an  occasion  could  not  pass  without 
a  shooting  match.  Rifles  were  brought  out  after  the 
feast  was  over,  just  before  the  sun  went  down  into  its 
bed  on  the  western  prairies,  and  "  the  nail "  was  soon 
surrounded  by  bullets,  tipped  by  Joe  Blunt  and  Jim 
Scraggs,  and,  of  course,  driven  home  by  Dick  Varley, 
whose  silver  rifle  had  now  become,  in  its  owner's  hand, 
a  never-failing  weapon.  Races,  too,  were  started,  and 
here  again  Dick  stood  preeminent,  and  when  night 
spread  her  dark  mantle  over  the  scene,  the  two  best 
fiddlers  in  the  settlement  were  placed  on  empty  beer- 
casks,  and  some  danced  by  the  light  of  the  monster  fires, 
while  others  listened  to  Joe  Blunt  as  he  recounted  their 
adventures  on  the  prairies  and  among  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. 

There  were  sweethearts,  and  wives,  and  lovers  at  the 
feast,  but  we  question  if  any  heart  there  was  so  full  of 
love,  and  admiration,  and  gratitude,  as  that  of  the 
Widow  Varley  as  she  watched  her  son,  Dick,  through- 
out that  merry  evening. 


Years  rolled  by,  and  the  Mustang  Valley  prospered. 


880 


THE   CLOSING   SCENE. 


m'; 


Missionaries  went  there,  and  a  little  church  was  built, 
and,  to  the  blessings  of  a  fertile  land  were  added  the 
far  greater  blessings  of  Christian  light  and  knowledge. 
One  sad  blow  fell  on  the  Widow  Varley's  heart.  Her 
only  brother,  Daniel  Hood,  was  murdered  by  the  In- 
dians. Deeply  and  long  she  mourned,  and  it  required 
all  Dick's  eflTorts  and  those  of  the  pastor  of  the  settle- 
ment to  comfort  her.  But  from  the  first  the  widow's 
heart  was  sustained  by  the  loving  hand  that  dealt  the 
blow,  and  when  time  blunted  the  keen  edge  of  her  feel- 
ings her  face  became  as  sweet  and  mild,  though  not  so 
lightsome,  as  before. 

Joe  Blunt  and  Henri  became  leading  men  in  the 
councils  of  the  Mustang  Valley,  but  Dick  Varley  pre- 
ferred the  woods,  although,  as  long  as  his  mother  lived, 
he  hovered  round  her  cottage  —  going  off  sometimes  for 
a  day,  sometimes  for  a  week,  but  never  longer.  After 
her  head  was  laid  in  the  dust,  Dick  took  altogether  to 
the  woods  with  Crusoe  and  Charlie  the  wil(  horse,  as 
his  only  companions,  and  his  mother's  Bible  in  the 
breast  of  his  hunting-shirt.  And  soon  Dick,  the  bold 
hunter,  and  his  dog  Crusoe,  became  renowned  in  the 
frontier  settlements  from  the  banks  of  the  Yellow-stone 
river  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

Many  a  grizzly  brsar  did  the  famous  "  silver  rifle  "  lay 
low,  and  many  a  w  ild  exciting  chase  and  adventure  did 
Dick  go  through,  but  during  his  occasional  visits  to 


'i  n 


THE   CLOSING   SCENE. 


881 


the  Mustang  Valley,  he  was  wont  say  to  Joe  Blunt  and 
Henri  — with  whom  he  always  sojourned  —  that  «  no- 
thin'  he  ever  felt  or  saw  came  up  to  his  Jirst  grand  dash 
over  the  Western  Prairies  into  the  heart  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains."  And  in  saying  this,  with  enthusiasm  in 
his  eye  and  voice,  Dick  invariably  appealed  to,  and 
received  a  ready  affirmative  glance  from,  his  early 
companion,  and  his  faithful  loving  friend,  — the  dog 
Crusoe. 


THE    END. 


<»" 


